Students and staff build director's house

On with the roof

Armando does work on the walls

Septic tank Bolivia style

Nearly finished product

Front porch

New Dean's house built 2012

Alex and Juan Jose break ground for the new dean's house

Front view

Plumbing

Pouring the floor

Trimming the doors to fit

bedroom

 

 

East View

August-September

8/21/12. God’s creatures measure my character

God put the fear of man into the beasts, and I thank Him for it while out walking this morning.  The jungle cats that prowl these parts make themselves scarce, and though the boys have spotted caiman*  in the creek, no one has ever been bit. But when I think about Christ and how in the field and wood the critters did not fear him I can’t help but compare that with how the birds and hoachies**  scatter at my approach.  Do they sense that in me there are still traces of that spirit of he who was a murderer from the beginning? I must admit to assassin-like thoughts upon spotting most any kind of rodent. At times I even see the birds as worthy of death.  I shudder, but I must admit my character is still a far cry from Christ’s.
Lord do your work in me!

  *A smaller relative of the crocodile
  **Mid-sized rodent that looks like a cross between a rabbit and a wild pig.

How Christians should hide the kingdom of heaven

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like unto treasure hid in a field; the which when a man hath found, he hideth, and for joy thereof goeth and selleth all that he hath, and buyeth that field.” Matt 13:44

Last night Milton came to ask me about the parable of the hidden treasure.
“I just have one question teacher. Why does he hide it? I don’t understand that part”
“You mean the fact that the treasure represents the gospel makes it seem odd that he should hide it after he finds it?” Milton nods. “Well, I think it’s clear that it can’t mean we should hide the good news from everyone else so they can’t get it, that would be a blatant contradiction of many other scriptures. Christ himself said that he who has a light does not put it under a basket but on a candlestick to give light to all those in the house. He also said to preach the gospel in all the world for a witness to all nations. I think the principle that is important here is that the man is not going to lose this treasure. He will do everything necessary to insure that he can claim it as his own. He hides it so that no one can take it away from him!”
It is not until Milton is in front speaking that I think of Ps 119:11. “Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin against thee.”  Yes, we are to hide that treasure! Not so no one will know it is there, but so that it will do its transforming work within us. As Matthew 13:33 puts it, “The kingdom of heaven is like unto leaven, which a woman took, and hid in three measures of meal, till the whole was leavened.”  The yeast transforms the dough, and hidden treasure transforms the life of the man who finds it. II Corinthians 4:6 and  7 explains that the treasure is the knowledge of the glory of God as revealed in Christ, and we are to have it stored or hid inside of us! We, the vessels of clay shaped in such a way by the Master Potter (Jeremiah 18:4) so as to contain the very Word of God, His Spirit and His life (John 6:63) so that Christ can truly say of us, “the kingdom of God is within you” (Luke 17:21)! How then can I come to hide the kingdom of heaven in such a way? As always, the same Word of God has the answer:
 “Yea, if thou criest after knowledge, [and] liftest up thy voice for understanding; If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as [for] hid treasures;  Then shalt thou understand the fear of the LORD, and find the knowledge of God.”   (Proverbs 2:3-5, emphasis mine) 
Forty-niners and earthly fortune seekers, you are on the wrong trail! Forget about the physical gold. It’s time to have a God rush: a headlong, pell-mell, risk-everything, winner-take-all pursuit of God! He who seeks like that will never come up empty! (Jeremiah 29:13).

9/3/2012 Abundant rain is on the way.

It is winter here in Bolivia. It has not rained for a month and a half, and the only soft ground goes airborne with the slightest disturbance. That, combined with the smoke from the local campesinos’ slash and burn and the local ranchers’ pasture blazes*  makes the sun and moon rise blood-red and twice their normal size.
Lyli and I are coming back from town after the second seemingly-wasted day this week. We have been trying to get the necessary documents together to petition our permanent Bolivian residency, and as usual, the going is not easy. The immigration officials always have something new to tell us. They know that Lyli and I are married now, and as such we must redo all the documents that we had made for our last residency to reflect our change in social status. Amiably, they want to help us avoid the trouble and offer us an easy way out. All we have to do is get a sworn statement from the public notary stating that our place of residence, occupation, and social status have not changed since the last residency we processed and we will avoid over half of the paperwork load, including the dreaded INTERPOL, or international police report, that delayed our last visa at least 6 months. We will also avoid having to send our marriage certificate to LaPaz to be verified as legitimate with the Mexican consulate and the Bolivian Canciller, which will basically just charge us a small fortune for their stamp of approval. It is very tempting to avoid all that nonsense, but as I think about it, I know we just can’t go that route. Lyli senses my reticence.
“We can’t do it” she confirms.
“I know. I’m just thinking, if we’re willing to be dishonest in something small like this just to avoid the inconvenience, how will we resist the temptation to lie when there is a real crisis?” We must learn to be faithful now. No excuses.
I think of the story I’m currently reading about  Ivan, an Adventist soldier in the soviet army in Moldavia who is faithful to God despite all odds and is bold beyond belief to fight the battles of the Lord. I have so much to learn. (If you want to be inspired and challenged read the book by Bradley Booth, Dare to Stand Alone.)
That afternoon I try to send our marriage certificates to the lawyer in La Paz, but Aerocon (read 3rd-world FedEx ) is closed until 3:00, the same time our bus leaves. So we leave town again without having advanced in our paperwork process. But all is not lost. God works in mysterious ways. While in line to pay for groceries at the Edén market, I have to rearrange the contents of my backpack, and I take out the copy of The Great Controversy and put it on the counter. I´ve forgotten all about my prayer this morning that God would give me an opportunity to share with somebody hungry for truth until the cashier grabs the book and begins to look it over.
“Is this the Bible?” he asks.
“No, but it’s a great book! Probably would have to be my second favorite after the Bible! It tells the history of God’s people starting where Revelation left off with the early Christian church in the days of Rome and continuing on down to today. It explains the role of America in prophecy and has helped thousands of people better understand the book of Revelation”
“How much does it cost?” he cuts to the chaste.
“Well, we usually sell it for 80 B, but I’ll give it to you for 60.”
He buys it on the spot.
We leave town ahead of what appears to be the first good rain in a long while. When we get off the bus at the entrance to the two-kilometer driveway, it looks like we’ve outdistanced the storm, but halfway down the drive the wind starts up out of nowhere.
“Yes Lord! Let it rain and rain hard!” Lyli giggles. “But please, not until we get home!”
The wind is gusting now and the driveway turns into a lane through wonderland as tiny leaves swirl down like golden snowflakes, catching the gleam of the retreating sunlight. We are in those last precious moments before the tempest strikes. The treetops sound like Pentecost and their moving reminds me of when God passed through the mulberry trees to lead King David’s troops to victory (1 Chron 14:15) A deep and solemn joy overtakes me. The Holy Spirit is moving! As I watch the falling leaves I think of how the Bible speaks of us as leaves (Isa 1:30, 64:6, Jer 17:8, Psalms 1:3). When the wind of the Spirit moves right before the tempest, many a spiritually dead, nominal Christian will be shaken. The latter rain will arrive, but for those of us who have no living connection and have fallen to the earth it will bring no growth and no power. Just a plastering pounding that precipitates decomposition.  
Four days ago we started a forty day prayer challenge with the students in our family worship group. Every morning we get up at 4:30 to study what the Bible teaches about the Holy Spirit and his work and how we can prepare ourselves to receive him in our lives. Oh what a need is ours, and how easily we are distracted from it by the cares of this life and the deceitfulness of riches! How often Satan picks our brains of the good seed! I feel so destitute, so far removed from God’s ideal!  I can’t even conceive of His plan: only small glimmers reach me. I lack spiritual stamina.  “Oh Lord, revive your work in the midst of the years, in the midst of the years make known; in wrath remember mercy.” (Habbakuk 3:2)

*Local ranchers burn their pastures to combat the encroaching jungle and burn of the tall dead grass so it will come back fresh and tender with the coming of the spring rains.

Impromptu Update

 9/11/2012
Hello all. Sorry I haven't written much lately. We have been and are very busy and my internet has been down for awhile. Bad excuse I know. This started out as a reply to an email my Grandma sent me, and I realized afterward it had turned into a newsletter. So I thought I’d share it with the rest of you. May you be blessed.
We are doing week of prayer this week. It has been tremendous. Three of us are giving the talks. We met together and picked 6 topics to present out of those pre-fabricated evangelistic seminars... one of them is called Truth for Today if I'm not mistaken. We each picked two topics we were interested in presenting and then put them in order. God totally orchestrated our choices as it turned out to be a perfect following of Rev 14 and the three angels' messages. I didn't realize it until I sat down to write out my sermon. The first message Warren gave on judgment and the 2300 day prophecy. I followed with a message on the Sabbath as the seal of God and His sign that He has the power and the authority to sanctify us, seal us and preserve us free from any earthly contaminates that would spoil us for eternity. God gave me special inspiration as I spoke, and I shared a story I had not even thought of ahead of time and had no intention of sharing and it just fit so perfectly. The Holy Spirit is moving. Warren followed again with the message of Revelation 17, and Jerry tonight and tomorrow will speak on Rev 12 and 13 and I follow Friday speaking of the Holy Spirit. I picked that topic because Lyli and I are almost two weeks into a forty day study on the Holy Spirit that has been excellent so far. We get up at 4:30 every morning and we have a group of about 15 students coming regularly to the study in our house and then we pray together in pairs usually. Sometimes it is hard to get up so early, but it has been a blessing. Also in my personal study I just finished reading Ezekiel and what powerful stuff! I love it. And it is right there with the Sabbath and the Holy Spirit and last day events.
We are also planning a health fair in the plaza in front of the mayor's office for the 24th of September. Please pray for that... it is a lot of work to get ready for it, but I already see how God has been at work both to inspire the idea in one of my colportuer students and to soften the heart of the town official in charge of giving permissions for such events. He is planning to attend. I just wrote a letter for the local churches in Guayaramerin inviting them to get involved. Colportuering has been a blessing. Many people do not want to buy books, but I have been surprised on two occasions when I was not even colportuering but carried the Great Controversy with me (We are reading it in my senior social studies class). One day Lyli and I entered a book store to look at books. We were about to leave and the lady begged us to sit down and talk for awhile. She talked about her children and wants to put them in our school when they are old enough. Lyli told her about some books by EG White like Advent Home and Child Guidance and she eagerly wrote down the titles. Her boss is Adventist, so he can help her get them. That's when I remembered I had the GC with me. I pulled it out and gave her a quick canvass. She bought it on the spot! A week later I was buying groceries and I had the GC with me again. I pulled it out of my backpack at the counter so I could put the groceries inside. THe cashier saw it and nearly grabbed it out of my hand! "What book is that?" I told him, and he bought it immediately! I was so excited when I remembered I had asked God that morning to help me share Him with somebody that day. I didn't expect it to happen quite like that!

We only have about six more weeks left in the school year and there is so much to be done. The government no longer allows us to make students repeat a year (we can't fail them). If their grades are low, even if it is because they don't turn in homework, we must give them special work to make up their grades and pass the year. I don't know what we are supposed to do if they don't turn in the special make-up work. What is this world coming to?
On top of everything else, Lyli and I are in the middle of getting our documents together to get the permanent residency. When we went to ask what the requirements are, they showed us two lists. One very short and easy, the other much longer and almost identical to what we had to get last time. Well, they told us if are job and living place and social status are the same we could do the short list. All the officials at immigration know that Lyli and are married. But they told us we could do the short list and it would be no problem. At first, we almost went for it... it was so tempting to avoid all that extra hassle. But then we realized we would be lying if we said that we had had no change in our social status. If we can't be faithful now because of a little inconvenience and having to pay a  couple hundred dollars extra, what will we do in the final crisis? There is no way we will be able to be faithful! Like Jeremiah 12:5 says: "If you have run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, how cans't thou contend with horses? And if , in the land of peace, wherein thou trustest, they have wearied thee, how wilt thou do in the swelling of Jordan?" We must be sealed. God is holding back the winds just for us. (Rev 7:1-3). What a merciful God we serve! Blessing to you all!

8/13/2012 Lana's Story

Lana’s* mother is Ese Ejja, an indigenous tribe of the northern Bolivian jungles. Her father, she tells me, is also native, but hails from a different tribe in Peru. Her grandparents still live there and she has never met them. Lana was one of our first students to come from the interior. Her acceptance letter had to be dropped from the mission plane and the villagers thought they were being bombed! Since then that little village has seen some drastic changes. Our current directors lived and worker there for about a year, and recently  Lana came to see me because her health class is scheduled to give the morning worship talks this week, and her turn will be on Sabbath at the 11 o’clock service and she is quite nervous. The topic that she has been assigned is on demon possession. We start conversing about cases of demon possession that are mentioned in the Scriptures. What does it look like? She remembers the most dramatic example, the two demoniacs who went naked and lived in the cemetery, and could not be restrained even with chains and terrorized all who passed by (Matt 8:28-34).
“Teacher, how does someone come to be possessed like that?” she asks me.
“It has to do with our choices.” I reply. “When we don’t choose to surrender our lives to Christ, the default is that Satan starts to take control. God in his mercy to us limits how much Satan can do, but if we keep ignoring God’s spirit we move closer toward demon possession. There are all different levels of demon possession. You don’t have to act like the demoniac in Matthew 8 to be controlled by Satan. He has many distinguished, intelligent, cultured people who are just as well quite possessed. Whenever we continuously follow our own thoughts and desires we invite possession because one of the principle tenets of the devil’s philosophy is “do as thou wilt. He has so infused humanity with his character that most of us come to think his thoughts as our own.”
“That’s what I thought, that it happens when Satan can get to your mind. That can happen when somebody drinks alcohol, right teacher?”
“Definitely”
“And when they take drugs?”
“That too. Anything that alters the mind or affects our ability to reason and make decisions can be a door for Satan to make suggestions to our minds, and even to take control. That doesn’t mean that everyone who does those things will automatically be under the complete control of Satan, thanks to God’s merciful restraining power, but it definitely increases the risk! And its obvious that people under the influence are out of control and do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. I think you could fairly say that they are temporarily possessed”  
“My dad had a real anger problem. He used to get mad at us and do terrible things. When the baby would cry too much he used to dunk it in hot water. I was lucky because when I was little I wasn’t a crybaby. But I was afraid of my dad. One time he almost killed my sister. He had the knife in his hand. He could get angry so quickly. In an instant he would become another person. I remember escaping to hide in the jungle with my sister one time because I knew that he was going to be angry. We stayed in the jungle a long time. I guess that’s why I never called my dad papa. I just always called him by his first name. After that my Grandpa Antonor called Dad the ‘assassin’”. Grandpa was always more like my real dad. He is affectionate.  But I could never understand why my father was like that when he is a school teacher. My mom was going to leave him, because besides being violent, he had other women on the side."
“She was going to leave? What happened?”
“My father has changed. He doesn’t treat us bad like he used to. My mom is still with him. They were married when they were 15 years old.”  I wonder how much of the change is a result of the change he has seen in his daughter.
    “I never told you this story. I never told anyone this story before.” She seems pleased to finally have it off her chest. “I told teacher Lyli one story, but it was about my uncle.” So she’s been working up to this. I realize. This is her third year with us here.
    Sadly, Lana’s stories are typical of probably at least 90% of our students. I’d like to pass it off as cultural, a local, national problem, but I know that is just not true. (See the poem below about my experience teaching in what was, at the time, the largest public high school in Washington State.) This problem is universal. We seem to live in a daily-increasing demon-possessed world. The family has failed. Schools have failed. We have failed. All we can do is ask for a miracle and agree to cooperate with the Master Teacher. He can fix anything, including me.

*name changed for privacy

Student Teaching: They call this high school—

Before they draft essays,
my students draft grass
and drink cervezas (1) on the weekends.
After work flipping burgers, flipping rivals
off, turning wrenches, loading dumbwaiters;
they are loading up on who knows what,
and later, loading guns. (2)

The bathroom smells of pot,
 not for being left un-flushed,
although the unplugged stall
was also hard to find. 

The school’s name is written on the wall,
but from where I park I only see the asco (3) part of Pasco,
and I appreciate the irony and step over some vomit
and wonder how many more youth
will puke away their lives before we learn to educate. (4)

(1). Spanish for beer
 (2).  “Sixteen-year-old Christopher Ruesga, [who a few short weeks ago sat in the same class that I am now teaching] was taken into custody Tuesday afternoon by members of the Tri-Cities Regional SWAT Team from a house at 1711 W. Fifth Ave. Ruesga is suspected of fatally shooting Eutimio Vivero-Martinez, 38, of Pasco, during a confrontation Sunday afternoon on North 14th Avenue near Agate Street. See more information on this site and Wednesday's Tri-City Herald”
 (3).  Spanish for disgusting, grotesque, despicable.
  4. See Hebrews 5:12. I need to be taught of God before I can truly teach.

Way behind schedule...

Hello all. How are you? I hope this letter finds you at peace in Christ, who is our life (Col 3:4) and the health of our countenance (Psalms 43:5). Lyli and I are well. The Lord's mercy is from everlasting and is new every day! I can’t keep up with it!
The “winter” vacation is over now,  and we’re ready to tackle the last half of the school year. The senior class should arrive today from their trip to the mountains to the southwest to distribute bibles and give health expos near La Paz in the altiplano. I can’t wait to hear the stories.
 There are so many things I haven’t written, but the battles are the same as always, for our souls and the souls of those we serve, and, as always, I solicit your prayers. Following is a story from about this time last year.

June 9, 2011
Wherever you are, let your light shine forth. Hand our papers and pamphlets to those with whom you associate, when you are riding on the cars, visiting, conversing with your neighbors; and improve every opportunity to speak a word in season. The Holy Spirit will make the seed productive in some hearts. . . .  {Te 250.3}

    As I wait for a ride today, I finally think about something besides my list of things to do in town and remember to pray. This time I ask God to get me a ride with someone who wants to hear words of life. In response to my hitchhiker plea, a big truck pulls up. Usually I would ride in the back, but the driver invites me into the cabin. His name is Mircol, but it doesn’t strike me until much later just how much his name sounds like what God does in our lives. Turns out Mircol lives in Riberalta, has a wife and two kids, and has been trucking in these parts for several years now. He asks about the internado and what I do there, and the conversation easily turns to spiritual things. I am amazed how one thing links to another and the words just seem to flow as I endeavor to uplift Christ. Mircol seems to enjoy our chat, and after a very fast forty minutes, we arrive in town. He refuses payment, but does accept a couple of small bible-study tracts.
    A couple of hours later I stop by to visit Antonia, one of the shopkeepers I met last school year. When I arrive, she is conversing with a short smiling man with thick hair and sparse teeth. Antonia interrupts her conversation with him to greet me cordially, introduces me to Carlos, and then asks me to please “share something with him from the word of God!”
    “What church are you from?” Carlos preempts.
    “Seventh-day Adventist!” I reply quickly with a smile.
    "Oh, I attended that church in La Paz" he says, and begins to share a few things he remembers. I can only hope that all the memories are not such to obscure the message born by the name: that we remember our Creator as He commands by observing the seventh day as His Sabbath (Exodus 20:8-11), and that we also remember him as our Great Redeemer and Liberator, (which significance is also found in the Sabbath, see Deut 5:14-15), and He is coming again to pick up his children in the Second Advent, a fact we can count on in light of the cross! After all, no one in their right mind pays an exorbitant price for a much-desired item, only to leave it behind and never return to reclaim it!  Our God, who has bought us at an infinite price will not so leave us unclaimed! He will surely come again and receive us to himself, that where He is, we may be also!

God's Works

3/25/2012 Flight to Trinidad in the twin engine Piper Comanche
We pass a cumulus gorilla with a fine chiseled face for being made of vapor, and I think of angels sculpting clouds. What mighty figures will they form on that great day when the Son of Man comes? Will he sit on the palm of an open hand, or come in the vengeance of a clenched fist?
While we fly, I write. The first time in awhile. The changing scenery of a journey seems to wake me some, as if the loft of wings has given some elevation to my thought. I feel I finally have a moment to think beyond my quotidian list of “what’s next.” The toil is still present (so is the turbulence as we bounce through a cloud) but the view is better. The rainbows are longer and closer to full circle. I pray.
I’d like to journal like the prophet Samuel, write a registry of God’s great works. If I could be inspired, not by some foul muse, but by the very Spirit of God, what would I say to wake the righteous and still hush them to reverence the Almighty Holy One?
My wife and I ride with three men, missionaries. Their first visit to Bolivia was several years ago, but they’ve been missionaries for a lot longer than that. In front of me sits Corrections Officer Audie “Hawk” Hawkins, from St. Luis, Michigan. He is a senior sergeant at the Saint Luis Correctional Facility, a level four security men’s prison. Hours ago I watched him joke and grin while handing out goodbye gifts to our students. He still wears his navy blue windbreaker suit that he used to frustrate the ubiquitous insects, in spite of the heat which brought him to my house every day for a glass of ice-cold Gatorade.
“No, I don’t do that” he said when I asked him to give the sermon on Sabbath. “I don’t do that up front stuff. I get too nervous!” So I was surprised to see him walk to the platform to give the mission report Sabbath morning. That was the first time he showed us the badge.
“I’ve been working in the prison for over 20 years” he told us. “For the first 11 years, I wasn’t a Christian. I wasn’t a very nice man!” he smiles and shakes his head. “But then the Lord got a hold of me! I’m still not as nice as I should be, but I’m a work in progress! The Lord gave me victory over alcohol, tobacco and swearing and my life had a complete turn-around!”
Now Audie talks to the inmates less like a warden and more like one who knows the joy of soul freedom. He always carries GLOW or some other literature with him. “I’m not allowed to proselytize, but if somebody asks me my opinion, I can tell them what I believe. Since I’m one of the senior officers, sometimes I have to administer tests. When the inmates are out on yard, I’ll call one of the prisoners over. His eyes get real big ‘cause he thinks he’s in trouble, but I explain to him, ‘you’re not in trouble man, I’m just testing the new officer to see if he’ll realize that you are missing. So we go hang out in a side room, and I have about half an hour to sit and talk with the guy one on one. God is really good, so far every time it’s been someone who is open and wants to talk about spiritual things.”
“So what do you do on Sabbaths, wasn’t it hard to get them off with the job that you have?” I asked him.
“Well, for a few years after my conversion, I still worked on Sabbath. My pastor had told me that prison work is just one of those jobs like caring for the sick: it has to be done all week long, even on the Sabbath. But then we got a new pastor and he challenged me to study the topic and rethink my position, and as I read the Bible and prayed about it I was convicted that I needed to be faithful to God’s commandment. If that meant losing my job, God would take care of me. When I went to work I found out that one of the senior officers was being transferred to another prison, and I was the guy next in line to have his spot! My schedule was for five days on two days off, and since I had seniority I got first pick of which days I wanted.”
“That all happened in three days!” the other missionary says exultantly. “We were praying for him that Wednesday night, and he was in church on Sabbath!” Speaking is Audie’s friend and spiritual mentor, Grandpa Deon Swanepoel, a giant South African of Dutch decent with a heart as big as he is. Mr. Deon is one of our best teachers, though his classes run for only two or three weeks perhaps twice a year when he comes to visit and help us out. His background is no less unlikely than Mr. Audie’s. He tells spine-tingling stories of his years as a construction foreman in a country where private residences are fortified like prisons against a society of cutthroats and renegades who run the streets at will. Just the fight to survive in such a place can bring out the worst in a person. On leaving South Africa he said, “it was either that, or lose my salvation.”
This spring he and Audie came to finish the primary school classrooms. We canceled regular classes for a week and all the kids worked with Mr. Deon. He makes them work hard, but he loves them and they know it and they give him 100%. He barks out orders in a mixture of accented English and Spanish accompanied by plenty of gestures and the kids very quickly learn to understand.
He preaches about the importance of faithfulness in the little things and points to two small diagonal supports that keep the whole roof from folding.
“I tell you what, these kids really surprised me.” He tells me later. “Those three little freshmen boys, I don’t know their names, but I challenged them with digging that trench and wow! Did they ever work!” As a reward for his faithfulness, Mr Deon moved Juan Jose, one of the three boys, to cement mixing. When the mixer broke down, instead of sitting around waiting for it to be fixed, Juan Jose went and asked Grandpa if he could go back and keep digging the ditch well he waited!
“Wow, that is the first time I have seen that from one of the new kids!” Mr Deon is impressed. “That really says a lot. And that other first-year girl, the real quiet one. She doesn’t say anything, but she just keeps going and doesn’t get distracted for anything.”
When I thank Mr. Deon for coming to get the classrooms finished, he can’t stop bragging on the kids. “These kids are the ones who did it!” Mr. Deon tells me triumphantly. They are the ones that keep him coming back year after year. Most of the senior class gathered around and lingered long when it was time for Mr. Deon to go.
At pilot is Herman Gonzales. He gave up a lucrative job as flight instructor at Andrews University to come fly in Bolivia as a volunteer. He’s been here two years without a paycheck. Does he regret it? No way, he says. This has been the best experience he could have imagined, and his faith has grown like never before.
So how is that I met these men here, a hemisphere away from home? I ask myself. What keeps them coming back year after year? I know what it is. They believe in education. Not the boxed-in, curriculumized, letter-graded foofaraw that ends with a fancy paper in the hands and a few more letters appended to the last name. Oh no. But a whole life-work. Raw character building: a helping hand, unselfish service, eternal-life preparation, complete transformation. In a word, redemption. The realest, truest, education there is. They believe in it because they believe in the Good Master Teacher. They believe in it because they have lived it and are living it still.

Early Rain

“He shall come down like rain upon the mown grass: as showers [that] water the earth.” Ps 72:6

It’s night in the jungle. My leg muscles are burning after a half a day of moving lumber and an afternoon standing on tiptoe to reach the washboard in the creek, now in flood stage after all the rain. I sleep, but without rest: delirious, tossing to and fro in a sea of interesting but incoherent dreams.
It is the 6th hour of the morning when I am awakened by a gentle rain. I spring out of my restless, troubled bed. The pain is gone from my legs, and in the east the sun is bursting out to make the day, shining all golden glorious behind the gentle showers. There is so much to be done today. Campus must be cleared of the encroaching jungle. It only took two months of neglect for a nearly complete takeover.
My first work is to hone both edges of my rust-crusted machete. An unused blade does not stay sharp long in these parts, but it still cuts, as my hand can attest. With my weapon spiffed up, I sally forth to do battle with the brush. After merely ten minutes I’m sweating profusely and need a rest. Apparently two months have done me the same as my machete and the advantage is with the jungle. As I pause for a breather I reflect on the encroaching vegetation. Funny how green has always been my favorite color. Today I think I’m beginning to feel a bit differently about it as I look upon choking vines and thickets where once were ordered rows. Some plants have survived, but are nearly destitute of fruit. I salvage three somewhat shriveled red peppers. A few bright pumpkins also catch my eye, but when I grab them my fingers sink into rotten bottoms. I lament the garden that could have been.
In the afternoon, cloudy columns billow upward on the horizon, promising a downpour. The distant rumble of thunder ensures that this is the real thing. I can soon hear the rain coming, drumming on the jungle canopy a drum-roll that swells to a deafening roar. That’s when it hits me. There is still a chance for beautiful fruit and a bountiful bumper crop! But it’s time to swing that machete, break up the ground, plant the seed, and work like crazy. Because when the rain ends, that’s it.

UPDATE

Greetings all. We’re back in Bolivia after a whirlwind trip to Mexico to get married, Houston to GYC (Generation of Youth for Christ Conference), and afterward home to see the family. The Lord has been so gracious to us, testing our faith, providing our every need and answering prayer. As usual I have too much to tell and too little time to tell it in a satisfactory manner. I will be teaching social studies, language arts, and religion to the juniors and seniors for starters. Also will be in charge of the garden and serve as school chaplain organizing worships, service day, and weeks of prayer etc. The rest of the volunteers are equally loaded. But God gives more strength!
I know it’s been a long time since I wrote last. Way too long. While I was home I was able to share with some of you the miracle God did for us with our passports. I’m working on a written version for those of you who didn’t get a chance to hear it. GYC was power-packed, encouraging and challenging as usual. I definitely recommend that you go online to audioverse.com and ask the Holy Spirit to lead you to the message you most need to hear.

We’re well into 2012, and God has rolled up His sleeves my friends! Psalms 119:126 is the prayer of the hour. “It is time, O Lord, for thee to work, for they have made void thy law.” Personally, I feel my greatest need is true humility, repentance, and a deep, consistent seeking after God. (2 Chronicles 7:14). Do I ever need Jesus and His Holy Spirit in my life! Check out the following. This just stirs my soul! May it get under your skin too…

“The man who loves God does not measure his work by the eight-hour system. He works at all hours and is never off duty. As he has opportunity he does good. Everywhere, at all times and in all places, he finds opportunity to work for God. He carries fragrance with him wherever he goes. A wholesome atmosphere surrounds his soul. The beauty of his well-ordered life and godly conversation inspires in others faith and hope and courage.” {PM 261.3}

“No earthly ties, no earthly considerations, should weigh one moment in the scale against duty to the cause and work of God. Jesus severed his connection from everything to save a lost world; and he requires of us a full and entire consecration. There are sacrifices to be made for the interests of God's cause. The sacrifice of feeling is the most keen that is required of us; yet, after all, it is a small sacrifice.” (GW92 248.2 emphasis mine)

“It is heart missionaries that are needed. Spasmodic efforts will do little good. We must arrest the attention. We must be deeply in earnest.”--9T 45. {PM 261.4}

“In a divided, halfhearted life, you will find doubt and darkness. You cannot enjoy the consolations of religion, neither the peace which the world gives. Do not sit down in Satan's easy chair of do-little, but arise, and aim at the elevated standard which it is your privilege to attain. It is a blessed privilege to give up all for Christ. Look not at the lives of others and imitate them and rise no higher. You have only one true, unerring Pattern. It is safe to follow Jesus only. Determine that if others act on the principle of the spiritual sluggard you will leave them and march forward toward the elevation of Christian character. Form a character for heaven. Sleep not at your post. Deal faithfully and truly with your own soul.” {1T 241.1}

“There are many in the church who at heart belong to the world, but God calls upon those who claim to believe the advanced truth, to rise above the present attitude of the popular churches of today. Where is the self-denial, where is the cross-bearing that Christ has said should characterize His followers? The reason we have had so little influence upon unbelieving relatives and associates is that we have manifested little decided difference in our practices from those of the world. Parents need to awake, and purify their souls by practicing the truth in their home life. When we reach the standard that the Lord would have us reach, worldlings will regard Seventh-day Adventists as odd, singular, strait-laced extremists. "We are made a spectacle unto the world, and to angels, and to men." {FE 289.1}

I don’t know about you, but after reading all that I start to wonder where I’ve been all my life! LET’S WAKE UP FOLKS! EZEKIEL 36:23 is a PROMISE and a PROPHECY. GOD IS GOOD FOR HIS WORD! LET’S LET HIM PROVE IT!

“And I WILL sanctify my great name, which was profaned among the heathen, which YE HAVE PROFANED in the midst of them; and the heathen SHALL KNOW that I am the Lord, saith the Lord God, when I shall be sanctified IN YOU before their eyes.” Ezek 36:23 (emphasis mine).


April 18, 2011
“And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not” Galations 6:9

There have been many moments this year when I’ve felt as though Paul penned those words just for me. God is so good, every now and then He gives us encouraging glimpses that show us that all the blood sweat and tears we pour into this school is not all in vain. This week during an outing to town Ruth came and asked me for some literature so she could share it with the friends she had made in the market. Later I heard comments from some surprised townspeople: “Where are you from? There just aren’t many kids like you these days that are excited about spiritual things! They’re just all caught up in themselves, in fashion and music!”
But what really made me smile was the comment from the pastor’s wife: “I saw some of your kids in the market today. I’d never seen them before, but I knew where they were from! They just look different! They’re so happy and helpful!”
All I could say was “Praise the Lord! He’s doing something in spite of our selves!”

************************
Just by way of context, the following installment reports on our month-long excursion into the interior of the department of Pando from the last week of June to the last week of July. Twenty-eight students and staff chose to spend our mid-year break traveling in a 2.5 by 12 meter wooden schooner powered by a 13-horse diesel engine. We stopped at a total of ten different communities where we visited the sick, distributed literature, did community service, kids programs, and gave Bible studies. Following are a few of the promised stories.

Ravenous. Rio Horton, 4th day.
“Therefore said he unto them, The harvest truly [is] great, but the labourers [are] few: pray ye therefore the Lord of the harvest, that he would send forth labourers into his harvest.” (Luke 10:2).

It’s relaxing to be out on the water in what feels like the middle of nowhere. Here, distance is measured by turns in the river, and the days by the beaches we’ve camped on, while the hours are marked by mealtimes. My appetite seems insatiable. I'm still hungry after two plates of rice and salad, a grapefruit, and cookies, and rather shocked at my own voracity.
Every two bends it seems we see another caiman, or a turtle, and once or twice we even see an anaconda. The birds are ubiquitous: kingfishers, egrets, and. This is an ornithologist’s paradise. We see a herd of capybara clambering up the riverbank, and a troop of monkeys swinging in the trees along the shore. I feel like I’m in the middle of a National Geograpic documentary on the Amazon, only without the “millions of years.” Contrary to what the scenery would suggest however, we’re really not that far from civilization. At least once a day we come upon a river community and stop to visit the sick and hand out activity books to the kids, and books and literature to the adults.
We stop at Humaita to load on more fuel and water, and distribute some literature while we’re at it. One family told us they would like us to do a full-blown prophecy seminar preached in the town hall. Unfortunately we are unable to accommodate that request at this time.
Ingavi is probably the most developed town on the river aside from Humaita. They have a daily flight that arrives from Riberalta. When we entered the mayor’s office I was surprise to see our literature precedes us… a copy of the Great Controversy was already on his desk. Turns out he had been in Humaita the day we stopped and one of the kids gave him the book. He welcomed us to the village and said we were welcome to use the town hall for children's meetings or Bible studies.
There is not a single Adventist church along this entire river. We did find one backslidden Adventist at Ingavi. Her evangelical husband was quite a chatterbox. Their son, a young lad by the name of Henri has a nasty wound where a piranha tried to snap off his finger. It looks rather infected. His mom blames it on the fact that he’s been out in the sun too much! We do a simple treatment and encourage him to keep the wound clean.
I can’t believe how many people we have met who want to study the Bible. But they don't want to hear just about the Christ of Calvary, they want to hear about the Christ of the heavenly sanctuary, the Christ of prophecy, judgment, and the Second Advent! They want to know what the Bible really teaches about the antichrist, and what to expect at the end of the world.
The community of San Luis wants a school like the one here near Guayara to serve all the communities along the river. The people accompanied us to the riverbank to wave us off.
In nearly every village we visited I had people ask me when we can come back. There is so much work to be done here.

7-3-2011
Wow, it’s the eve of Independence Day, and I didn’t even realize it!.It seems apropos because tonight one young person found true liberty in Christ. There are no noisy rockets here, but the sky is alive with the fireworks of God. Pleiades, Ursa Major, Orion, the Southern Cross, a dome of wide-open, stretched-out freedom: light years of it. It’s not some cheap, ephemeral sparkle of man-made freedom, but the power of God shining down into this little speck of life in the middle of the Amazon jungle.
We just finished a prayer meeting like very few I’ve ever been a part of. A call came on the radio earlier this evening with the news that Rodolfo, a former student who left us in the middle of the first trimester, was hit by a truck Sabbath night while taking his sister to the disco. She suffered only a broken leg, but he took a blow to the head and was pronounced clinically dead at the scene. They rushed him to the hospital where they shocked him twice and his heart restarted. Though alive again, he remained unresponsive, and the myelin sheath, the membrane that protects the brain, was compromised, causing severe hemorrhaging.
I thought of Rodolfo’s attitude when he left the school. Ruan had seen him at the port in Riberalta the day that we embarked. He turned his back on us without returning our greeting.
Dave, a young man who grew up not believing in God came with us on this trip. He is from the states. I met his uncle when speaking in California. A couple of months ago the uncle sent me an email and asked if his nephew Dave could come visit the school. God worked it all out and Dave arrived just in time to come on this trip. He seems to be enjoying the adventure, and despite the double culture shock of Bolivia and Seventh-Day Adventist, he seems to be enjoying the trip. As we all gathered to pray for Rodolfo, Dave joined us and said a prayer for, as I understand it, the first time in his life. He doesn’t even know who Rodolfo is, but something drew him to stay and pray with us around the campfire.
“Rodolfo, I know you’re out there bud...” he began. "I'm praying that God will make you better."

As we knelt in that circle under the stars and prayed fervently for Rodolfo I was suddenly struck with by the gravity of my own condition and the inconsistency of our petitions. We’re as near death as Rodolfo, and yet we are just as oblivious! How would it be otherwise possible to gather together in such fervent prayer for life and healing when there is an immediate physical threat, but we seem incapable of uniting to plead with the same earnestness for our own spiritual life and healing? How sad that it took a tragedy like this to bring us together in such intense prayer… we’re in a spiritual coma and there is no prognosis of recovery without direct divine intervention. We need some shock treatment to WAKE US UP!

7-6-2011
Today was the second time we took a group of kids 20 minutes upriver from Las Amalias to the community of La Paz. About 18 families. A few of us first went to ask what we could do to help the community and if they were interested in anything. We ended up cutting back the brush around the village, and in the end two families wanted to study the bible. They are hungry for the Word! They go 15 minutes up river at least 3 to 4 times a week to attend the evangelical church. Their names are Alcides and Rosa Suarez and Ayzer and Miriam. The two women are sisters. Ayzer is president of the town council. They all bring their Bibles look up all the texts and ask questions. Ayzer went to get a pencil so he could mark the verses. Today we realized that we have been meeting during their typical lunch hour of about 2:30 pm. You have to understand the sacredness of the lunch siesta here in eastern Bolivian culture to really appreciate this. It is extremely rare to get people out to do anything between the hours of 12:30 and 3:00. I have been totally ignored by shop keepers during this afternoon rest period when their store front is open and the wares are within arms-reach, but they are completely absorbed in their lunch and the television set. Not even the prospect of making a sale will stir some of them. Not so in this case.
“Why are there so many different religions and sects when the Bible says there is one Lord and one faith and one baptism?”
“What about the second coming?” Many theologians and church leaders in their study claim to have discovered the time of the Lord’s appearing. What do you believe about that?" I felt like they were testing me on something they'd already decided!

7-7-2011
Today we studied Daniel nine, and I realized I need a better handle on this before I can explain it well. Franz, the school teacher canceled his classes so he could attend the Bible study today and seemed to be completely absorbed in the study. He was sincerely impressed that the scripture predicted the anointing of Christ


7-9-2011
I’m up before the breakfast crew this morning, and as I say my morning prayers, I decide to stoke last night’s fire. It strikes me that the glory of the coals glows from the inside out. Coals are wood possessed by fire… it dances on the inside. As I watch the fire this morning I’m thinking of the Holy Spirit, and it strikes me how much the physical teaches us of the spiritual. The seen of the unseen. The cloven tongues lie as of fire representing the Holy Spirit in Acts 2:1-4 are not haphazardly chosen symbol. To get the fire going there has to be plenty of oxygen… blowing breath, or wind or both (John 3:8). Prayer is called the breath of the soul… but this is not just any breath, but a specifically directed, purposeful, forceful exhalation that longs for light and heat to dispel the dark and cold. That breath combines with the invisible natural currents of the air. The wind is so subtle that at times we cannot even feel it, let alone know where it it comes from, yet is there working (John 3:8). And at last springs forth the flame. But how slow the wood is to respond! The larger the log, the longer it must be enveloped in fire before it lights up. So we look for smaller sticks. We must be little in our own eyes before we can receive they Holy Spirit. The cracked, knotted, pitchy, and dry… the ugliest and most unlikely to all appearances is the most readily used. The arrangement of the wood in respect to each other is also key to success. When the wood comes together, leaning on one another, the fire shoots up between them. As the fire continues to burn, the wood is undergoing a chemical and compositional transformation. A jet of gas escapes from the end of one log. It must be part steam, because it only lights sporadically. As the wood heats, liquid within is converted into gas, which then leaks out through the wood’s expanding pores and combusts on exit, causing the wood to burn hotter. As we are cleansed of self and the impurities within by the work of the Holy Spirit, it is impossible to have a lukewarm experience. At this point, the size of the flame is no true indication of its quality or heat. We cannot and should not pass judgment on someone elses spiritual experience based only on the apparent size of their flame. At last, dead wood has been converted in living coals, vessels of fire, natural little lamps.
*************************************

back at the school....
FIRE and RAIN… 8-18 to 8-29-2011
“Therefore also now, saith the LORD, turn ye [even] to me with all your heart, and with fasting, and with weeping, and with mourning: And rend your heart, and not your garments, and turn unto the LORD your God: for he [is] gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and of great kindness, and repenteth him of the evil.

We’re three months into dry season and the rain forest has become a fire forest on a slow burn. It smolders all through the night and often ignites, the flare spots betraying where the wind gusts are. I imagine shifting constellations: fallen galaxies scorch the land into their own version of the heavens. In the morning the smoke hangs around, a malevolent fog that stings the eyes and constricts the throat, like creosote in a chimney. If we were under the circumstances, singing God’s praises would be pretty difficult right about now. Thankfully, God’s promises are above all that… higher than heaven, what cans’t thou know?
Last week the kids burned a hornet nest behind the dorm, and somehow a fallen ember escaped their notice and we had our typical dry-season burn. It really gets going wild, but thank God it’s a quick and easy out with many hands and a little water. Unfortunately the fire burned the same section of waterline that burned last year, still left uncovered from last year… that’s what happens when one leaves things half done. Diligence and perseverance are such important and yet difficult qualities to develop.
The chacos are dust bowls and all the banana plants are yellow and invest their energy in survival, not in producing fruit. I see a lot of myself and a lot of my church in those dry withered plants. And if all we do is sit and cry about it, although it's better than being apathetic, we’ll just end up dryer than we were to begin with. It's time to prepare for rain (Joel 2:11-32, Hosea 6:3, Zechariah 10:1).

Broken Pipes
1. “In one moment, by a hasty, unguarded act, we may place ourselves in the power of evil; but it requires more than a moment to break the fetters and attain to a holier life. The purpose may be formed, the work begun; but its accomplishment will require toil, time, perseverance, patience, and sacrifice.” {Testimonies for the Church, vol 8. 313.1}
So Ruan’s dad has been here putting in an irrigation system for us to water those bananas. I’m digging at the valve junction at the corner of the girl’s dorm. I told Mr. Deon I think this spot has been cursed. We had it repaired and tested to satisfaction and asked one of the boys to back-fill the hole. The next time we turned on the pump, a geyser shot up in that spot and quickly converted the freshly turned dirt into a slime pit. When we dug out the muck, we found a big chunk of cement and brick that had been carelessly tossed directly on top of the pipe joint! All the pipe had to be unscrewed back to the bad joint which had to be re-threaded and taped and then the whole section had to be pieced back together. One small, careless error cost hours of labor to repair!

2. “And if ye have not been faithful in that which is another man's, who shall give you that which is your own?” Luke 16:12
The apathy and negligence here just slays me sometimes! Someone on a motorcycle drove over, not just one, but nearly a dozen lines of pipe that were stretched across the path to Enrique’s house, cracking each one wide open. WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!!! At some point we have to learn to take care of the things God has given us! We cry for more things, but we must be stewards before we can be owners!

3. “For [the LORD seeth] not as man seeth; for man looketh on the outward appearance, but the LORD looketh on the heart.” 1 Samuel 16:7
Of course we still use that cracked pipe. We just cut out the broken part and splice it together with a union. Mr. Deon told me to cut it back 12 inches. But as I inspected the crack in the pipe, it only extended about three or four inches. Cutting off a whole foot seemed like an unnecessary waste, so I made my cut just a few inches back from where the crack ended. Then I threaded and taped the pipe, ready for assembly. While cutting the next pipe, I happened to glance inside. And hey, look at that! Mr. Deon knew whereof he spoke! The crack on the inside ran over twice the distance of what it showed on the surface! Now isn’t that just like us!