Fellow Workers

As many of you know I don´t exactly have experience in working out doors except picking up pine cones and mowing the grass. This aspect of our job always scares me a little.

We enter into a community with the promise that we will work for a place to stay and food to eat. At times when we didn´t have work we wouldn´t eat (many a time the people were so generous and gave us food anyway). For most of the people they live hard lives and seem to age faster than normal. They work from sun up to sun down with little variation in their average routine. Though difficult we were fortunate enough to help the people and work along beside them.

Every morning Andrew (my partner) and I would wake up with the sun do our usual morning routine and walk outside, sit on a wooden stump and wait for whatever was to come that day. If food came then usually came with it the promise to work. The first few days were the easiest as all we did was seperate potatoes and later spread them out. Though boring, it was not all that bad. The people also made this type of potato called Chuño. It takes a long process of several days to make these things, and there is stomping on the potatoes which we got to partake later in our stay. They are probably the worst things known to man.

Right now being in harvest season the work we did the most had to do with wheat whether it was cutting or carrying. It took us some time getting used to cutting the wheat but after awhile we took pride in our work. (Weirdly enough we began to have conversations about wheat like, ¨that wheat was great to cut because it was long and smooth unlike yesterday which was very dry.¨ We realized we had cut too much wheat at this time.) Many times we spent all day cutting fields of wheat, but sometimes we would have to walk an hour or so just to get to the field.

Our health was good basically the whole time. Andrew got sick one day (the day we had community work day repairing a stone road...good times), and I got sick the very last day which has since affected all my team members. I cut up my hands pretty bad doing stupid things (like cutting my own hand with a sickle). We had to take vitamins to supplement the lack of everything in potatoes. We had potatoes every meal, and though sometimes it was in a soup type deal, most of the time it was just a basket of potatoes. In the end I did not bathe for three entire weeks (new record). We did our best to wash up whenever we could be there was not much of a chance really at all to do so. When I finally got to bathe it was as if the dirt was caked on and took several showers to finally remove the filth.

Though it was very difficult working and living like the Quechua it is of the upmost importance and advantage to do so, if only to not be a burden to the people as Paul did in Thessalonica, ¨for you remember, brothers, our labor and toil: we worked night and day, that we might not be a burden to you.¨ Also in this way we have become more like the people, equals, and not just strangers with some foreign message. It is amazing how deep with the people we were able to be just because we were living life like they do.

¨He who plants and he who waters are one, and each will receive his wages according to his labor. For we are God´s fellow workers...¨

As we keep planting we know that God gives the growth. But how thankful we truly are to be given the privilege to work not only for God but with God. To think we are His ¨fellow workers¨ is a humbling thought but it also gives us strength and hope to face each day. And though our work was very physical and not many people could see the eternal results, we worked with confidence that God was working the whole time and that makes all the difference.

Greeting Them From Afar

We just got back from our trip to the Quechua who are in Quchumi, a small community of twenty families living in the mountains in the Chayanta Department in Bolivia. To the praise of our Gracious Father we were able to stay for three weeks working and trying to learn culture and language.

In the next blog I will write about the work and physical aspect of our trip. This blog I will just relate about what God did with our time in Quchumi.

We entered Quchumi the 13th of June trying to find a Man of Peace to stay with, work with, and eat with in order to earn our keep while we studied the language and culture and built relationships.

There were many hardships that we encountered. The suspiciousness of the people at first, the food, and the work. We started working for several different people in the community, which turned out to be a blessing in itself allowing us to get to know more people in the community. We, however, finally ended up with our Man of Peace in the last seven days of our stay, which we worked really hard for him all those days. He was, by God´s design, the owner of the house we had been staying in the whole time, but did not find this out until the end.

The greatest hardship was the language barrier. Many of the inhabitants of Quchumi spoke enough Spanish for us to get by, though most of the time our limited Spanish exceeded their level. We had few chances to practice the language but heard it a fair amount. The temptation was great to begin telling the Gospel in Spanish, but to keep the Gospel pure we refrained. It was quite difficult to stay for such an extended time without engaging in any time of ¨Evangelistic Outreach¨ or even start storying. We strongly believe, however, in our method of learning the language and teaching the stories, God´s Story, from beginning to end if not to cheat or rob them of truly understanding His Message.

At many times it just felt like we were surviving. We would get up and work, some days for over ten hours with little conversation (when eating with the Quechua in their homes they usually serve guests outside while they eat separately inside their house). I believe even with the barriers of language and limited fellowship we were still able to build valid relationships. At times long days of work were made all the worth it when a five minute conversation somehow came through revealing their interest in hearing the Gospel. Upon many questions we found out the people have a general idea about God, almost nothing of Jesus, but all have the interest to learn the Word. We have received an invitation to come back any time to stay with them and to start teaching.

At times it was extremely difficult to keep looking down the road to when we could start storying. This is such an important process and during days of hard work, eating a million potatoes, of being the outsiders for so long, we had to keep saying to ourselves, ¨we are doing this so they can hear.¨ Though through this work we aren´t able to see any ¨results¨ yet, we believe it will lead to something beautiful. As the saints of old greeted the unreceived promises from afar we too greet the promise that the Quechua will hear and we continue in that hope.

¨...not having received the things promised, but having seen them and greeted them from afar...¨ - Hebrews 11:13

Beside Still Waters

My partner and I just got back from a short trip from the major communities in the Chayanta Province. We needed to make good contacts and get some more information about the area before we headed out for months at a time.

The trip was absolutley amazing and I don´t have time or space here to tell how God just showed Himself over and over again. In Ravelo, the first community, we couldn´t find anyone that knew anyone from the church and pastor has left to go somewhere. It started off rough and I remember being so discouraged right from the beginning thinking we weren´t going to find anything or be able to visit all the communities on the list in the short allotted time we had. God was ready to prove me wrong.

We got on the next bus to get to the small community outside of Ravelo, and I sat there on the thiry minute praying hard to God that He would just move and we could see Him move. There was a nice guy on the bus that helped me with my bag (I had nowhere to put it). When we got off to this tiny village, the guy that helped got off too. I asked him if he knew if there was a church in this village and if there was could I talk with the pastor. It turned out that he was the pastor and we had such a great conversation and he helped us so much.

From that point I was able to have peace in His providence and for the rest of the trip things happened in such a way that I looked back and said, ¨That was Him,¨ whether it was receiving food from random farmers who couldn´t speak spanish when we didn´t have food as we were just walking by, or finding the only bus leaving a certain city to the very place we needed to go, but only because the woman at the little store brought it up randomly (or not so randomly), we felt His presence everywhere. Only in His timing and His way were we able to reach each community that was on the list in four days (we had 7 or 8 to do so), though couldn´t have done it if we needed one more day given that we didn´t bring enough money. When we got back home to Sucre we had less than 20 cents between the two of us.

I praise God because I know for a fact that He did everything, brought us to each and every place we needed to go, and met people on the road and every corner who were exactly the person we needed to talk to. At times as we had our backpacks and met other travelers I felt as if I was in The Pilgrim´s Progress and each person, each city, each experience we grew in Him, in His presence, as well as His pleasure. He lead us every step of the way, and in His peace we were always beside still waters.

I didn´t take a bath for four days, and if this was fifteen years ago I would have been really proud of that. I was happy to get a hot shower this time around though.

¨He leads me beside still waters.¨
- Psalms 23:2

Moments of Silence

I can honestly say that one of my biggest vices and biggest weaknesses is impatience. I am sure anyone can confirm this with any of my friends or family. When I ran track the worst thing about a track meet was the time I had to wait before my race. I would sit there on the bleachers watching everyone else do their event, sitting in the unbearable sun, listening to my CD player, trying not to think of the four hours before my race. It would never fail and my nerves would start to get to me and I would get restless. I was already so nervous for the race to sit there and have all the time in the world before my event was the worst. I could not enjoy a meet until my event was over. I remember being so unbearable. By the time my race came about I was so worked up that I was mentally shot because I had wasted so much energy being impatient. Sometimes I feel I am in that state now...impatiently waiting for my race.

Patience is defined in the dictionary as ¨the bearing of provocation, annoyance, misfortune, or pain, without complaint, loss of temper, irritation, or the like.¨ Also, ¨an ability or willingness to suppress restlessness or annoyance when confronted with delay.¨ 1

I never saw this impatience as a serious evil…until recently. There has been much delay since I have gotten out of training. I had touched briefly on this in my other post, ¨Walking in the Wilderness.¨ I find myself still there, still complaining. I have been able to see my impatience, my attitude towards the situation as fervor or a strong passionate desire to do ¨what¨ I came here to do. The Father has been showing me something different, which I would like to think recently but know He has been trying to tell me for sometime.

The evil of impatience I have found breeds many more vices. It is a mother vice. In my impatience, in my complaints that my present circumstance are somehow not satisfactory, that God is not ¨using¨ me, I have found my self doubting, fearing, and questioning the Will of God. It is as if He is not enough in all circumstances. Who am I to not bear annoyance, irritation, or the like when confronted with delay? Our Lord Jesus waited 30 years before starting His ministry and I am sure during that time ¨grew in wisdom and stature and in favor with God…¨ (Luke 2:52)

In Hebrew, I believe (correct me if I am wrong) the word for wait is the same word for hope. Or at the very least is interchangeable in the translation to English. I find this to be so beautiful. In waiting on God we are hoping for what is to come. By being impatient I have shown my lack of trust and faith. But I am ready to hope. I am ready to be patient and allow Him to speak to me and enjoy His presence.

In struggling in this matter, my boss made an incredible analogy. Though I know almost nothing about music, he explained this situation like a piece played on a piano. That the audience hears beautiful melodies and walks away remembering the main parts, the climaxes of the piece. But, he said, it is the moments of silence that no one notices but are most essential in setting up the parts that are the most memorable. It is a preparation, a climatic anticipation that truly creates something so beautiful.

I can remember so many times in my life periods of waiting on the next thing and being impatient in the process. I am still learning this, and maybe this is what I have to learn before I can start racing again. But I can also tell you that these ¨moments of silence¨ were always precursors to God doing an amazing work in my life. I cannot begin to grasp to what God is up to now with all this waiting, all this silence. But I wait and I hope and in this, in Him I can have joy and trust His timing. I will be thankful for this moment of silence for I know that something beautiful will proceed.

1. Dictionary - http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/patience

Out of the Grey Twilight

One of the things I like about South America is that they name streets and plazas after important days in their history. One can see almost anywhere a street named 9 de Agosto or 24 de Septiembre. Though they mean almost absolutely nothing to me (except September 24th is Carmen’s, my sister-in-law, birthday) they have grown into something to celebrate, something to remember, something to reflect on what they were before and what they became after.

I believe April 18th will always have this importance to me. Today, the 18th of April, is exactly a year since a stepped on Peruvian soil to embrace the work that the Lord had called me to do. More importantly, however, it is my mom’s birthday. If you will indulge me a little, I was hoping to dedicate this blog to my mom, Mary Ann Michael.

Where should I begin to describe my mother? She is probably the most wonderful person I know in this world. She is so beautiful, though in her humility she would never admit it. I was so fortunate to inherit her dark eyes and auburn hair. She is intelligent, and discerning, and has a depth of wisdom not seen in many people. She has always been so committed to the Lord and so insistent about doing the right thing. My mom used to tell me when I was faced with a decision that had any moral weight, “I trust you will do the right thing.” Of course this was enough for me to do the right thing. Her commitment to us as a family was second to none, and we never did without. But more importantly she was always there for us, always ready to listen, always there when we needed her.

She is probably the coolest mother in the world as well. On any given day, walking into the house I could always find my mom so content to be watching a baseball game (it could be just as well be basketball, hockey, or football) while doing a load of clothes (usually mine). At all my games from little league to high school she kept my all my stats, no matter what the sport. After the game she would usually give me advice on how I could have played better. She one time caught for me when I used to pitch to help me warm up. Though after receiving a wild pitch in the throat we decided it best not to do that anymore. Since I have been down in South America she always giving me updates on the major sports and it is great that we share the same passionate hatred for Duke, Atlanta Braves, Dallas Cowboys, and the Boston Redsox. She also loves action flicks and novels. And at the same time she has a love for cats, even though at one time she was allergic. I can also say that I have had some of my best talks on theology and life with her, and she always listens despite my nonsense.

I think her greatest legacy has been her battles with Cancer, and how she has overcome them one by one through the strength of our Gracious Father. She has been diagnosed with cancer four different times, and it has been through this that she has allowed herself to grow, to trust, and to come out of it stronger every time. She used to say if she could only see all her kids graduate that she would be so thankful. And that day came, and I started to realize how precious she saw each and everyday. Her continual faith has been the greatest example I have ever seen and I could not be more blessed.

And so today is her birthday and her son is a million miles away. It was on her birthday this time last year that I last saw her. She has been my biggest supporter since I have been here and it was she that instilled in me a belief that I could do anything, because she always believed in me. And so here I am.

She gave me this quote from Theodore Roosevelt that says,

¨The person who succeeds is not the one who holds back, fearing failure, nor the one who never fails…but rather the one who moves on in spite of failure. Far better to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumph, even though checkered by failure, than to take rank with these poor spirits who neither enjoy much nor suffer much because they live in the grey twilight that knows not victory or defeat.¨

And so on the 18th of April I finally stepped out of the grey twilight that I had known for so long I became willing to be in the arena where I would face many defeats and many victories and lay my life in the hands of my Lord and trust that that alone is victory. What I have learned since I have been down here though I have always seen it in my mother is that great men are not great because of their accomplishments, for if anything those are given from the Lord, but it is how a man face circumstances no matter how beautiful, or how dire.

My mother taught me this if only by living it. And for her, for all that she is, I am thankful to the Father who lavishes us undeserving creatures with such a blessing. For her I celebrate the 18th of April, and if I was Peruvian I would name a street after this day.

Walking in the Wilderness

I am in Lima right now, just got out of the jungle near Pucallpa where I helped with the training that is going on now. I am still waiting on my partners to get their money so please keep praying for them. One of the trainees, Jeffrey Johnson, has since joined our team. He has to have surgery before he can start the work but we are excited about him coming to the team.

These past few months have been good and challenging but also hard in so many ways. The LORD has been working through me in many areas of my life and I wanted to share how. I will try to make this a little more brief as I have received complaints from my boss that they are too long. My bad.

I came here almost a year ago now, all with the intentions, the dreams, the expectations that the Father was going to use me and I would see Him move through a people group and they would come to know Him and His Glory. There have been many things that have delayed my actually working with my people group from arriving in the middle of a training having to wait three months to go through my own training, to not having partners and fulfilling obligations of the team. I have met a lot of frustration having the Quechua in my sights but not yet arriving. I have had in the back of my mind yet surfacing too often the idea that God will just not use me here, that I won’t see the work of His hand.

Reading in Deuteronomy the other day I came upon the passage in chapter eight that says, “And you shall remember the whole way that the LORD your God has led you these forty years in the wilderness, that he might humble you, testing you to know what was in your heart, whether you would keep is commandments or not. And he humbled you and let you hunger and fed you with manna, which you did not know, nor did your fathers know, that he might make you know that man does not live by bread alone, but man lives by every word that comes from the mouth of the LORD.”

The Israelites were given the promise over four hundred years before, and though they were able to leave Egypt having the Promise Land in sight, they still had to walk for forty years until they were ready to receive the promise. It was hard to think that I could come down here for the desire for people to know Him, to be used in this way and after all that was done was me being changed and nothing more. But as I have walked these “forty years in the wilderness” I realized how much I needed that change and I have come to know that if He is going to use me He will use me in His way. My heart is stubborn and foolish, and this process has been necessary and still is to rid me of the things that hinder my usefulness to the Kingdom.

My prayer is that I will start living on the Word, that when tested the Father will be pleased to know what is in my heart, and that not by my acts or righteousness but by the mercy and grace of the LORD I will see this promised land.

“For the LORD your God is bringing you into a good land…And you shall eat and be full, and you shall bless the LORD your God for the good land he has given you.”

Lead me to the Rock

Now in the City of Our Lady Peace (La Paz) and we are headed to Peru for our Annual Meeting for the Xtreme Team. I figured I would take this time to relate what happened in our last investigation trips. By the way, I have loaded many photos of our travels on Facebook, but have yet to do it on this blog site. Sorry about the delay it just takes a long time to download for that particular site.

After many delays we were able to finally head off to Colqa Pampa, one of the bigger communities about a seven to nine hour walk away over some pretty high mountains. My partners had taken a shady little bus the time before, but we all decided to do the walk this time, proving to be a lot shorter...and a lot harder.

The mountains we have to climb over stand mockingly to the east of our base camp in Pocoata. Upon first sight of them I was a little intimidated, then my feelings were confirmed with the ascent. Our base camp sits at over 11,000 feet, so with our climb we reached as high as 13,500 feet, just 500 feet below the tips of the rockies. At this altitude it is hard to breathe, and makes it that much harder trying to climb mountains.

Before we actually left, the caretaker of our house told us there was going to be a huge festival, and that all the people in all the communities would be drunk. With our limited time to do the investigation we thought we would give it a try anyway.

It seemed like nothing went right with this trip. The ¨Man of Peace¨ from Javier and Caleb´s last trip was not there, so we had no where to stay. People were getting drunk at ten in the morning, and so most of the people were incoherent. After my partner got in a awkward situation of where he had to drink some alcohol, we decided it best to leave and try to our chances with the other communities. It was all the same everywhere we went. It was such a sad situation and we decided to come back when this festival was over.

After a day of rest we decided to head back. The mountains this time looked smaller, more manageable and we reached all three communities in one day. Though having nowhere to stay in the first we tried the second, but they didn´t want us to stay, so we went to the third, called Qarchumi. At this time we had been walking for over nine hours and I was deserately praying for a place to stay the night. We had the option of the tent, but still had to walk a good ways to even set it up. We met with the Mayor of Qarchumi, a community of twenty families or so, and they fed us and we were able to stay with an elderly lady that night. God provided.

The next morning the Mayor told us that they had no work and nowhere for us to stay so we needed to go onto the next community. Feeling the rejection once again we left. As we were leaving another guy came up and gave us fruit and asked us where we were going. I told him we didn´t know but wanted to work for our food and a place to stay if only to learn from the culture. This man then gathered the leaders of the community including the mayor and after meeting for thirty minutes they questioned us about our reason for being there (some of them wanted money from the North American) but after explaining our desires, they all agreed to give us work, food, and a place to stay.

The first day we worked with the Mayor, basically clearing a field of rocks preparing it for planting. It was a good six hours of labor. The Mayor kept sticking leaves of cocaine in his mouth and chewing them, occasionally offering it to us, but we graciously declined. Caleb threw out his alcohol thinking it was left over water. This is what we call creating a barrier. His kids were with us throughout the day as well. They were kind of the highlight, laughing at everything I did.

We were really excited about this and one of the guys even mentioned that we could teach something every afternoon. Hoping to do this next morning we woke up with great expectations, only to be shattered by the news that none of the people had any work for us and couldn´t feed us. Once more the Mayor told us that we needed to leave.

Feeling somewhat unwelcomed we decided it was better to leave, but they promised they would allow us to stay another time. The elderly woman, who was wonderful, told us that when her husband returned we could work with him, and that she would cook us something very good. This was good news, on many accounts. We could return in the future and have someone that wanted us to stay and work provided, that and the promise of good food considering the time we were there, it was somewhat lacking.

The generosity of the people was such a blessing from God. The people kept bringing us potatoes and corn. It was overwhelming. Also because they would stand there in front of us waiting to get their bowl back, and after five bowls of potatoes we still had to put it down. God provided.

Not having sufficient time to investigate another area and a festival on the horizon we thought it best to return to Pocoata.

Thanks for all your prayers and please keep praying for Javier and Caleb. We still don´t know about their situation and are hoping to see the LORD work in way we know it is from Him.

Both small trips really pushed us to our limits at times. Between the physical aspect, trying to find our way, the drunkenness and rejection, and just trying to really inquire of God of what to do next, I felt so overwhelmed and drained at times. Though, in every situation, though at times ambiguous and uncomfortable, I could feel the LORD´s leading and the confirmation of His Will for my life. Looking at the foreboding mountains before me I could only think of all the times that God has called me to something terrifying, challenging, and ultimately higher than I. It is in this leading to the Rock that we are purged, tried, and ultimately changed into something more beautiful than we could ever imagine. It is in this leading that I rejoice. I hope to keep ascending.

¨from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.¨

- Psalm 61:2