"Nor the Stranger that is Within Your [Truck]" Ex 20:10

            “Oh, they must be waving to me” Keila returned the greeting to a family outside a typical clapboard shanty in Santa Martha as she drove by. It is not unusual in Belize for people to wave at passing strangers. The waving continued however, and Keila realized the family was not saying hello, but beckoning her to stop. They offered her some mangoes, and made conversation, and Keila discovered they were new to the village.

“We just moved here a couple months ago.” they said. “By the way, how is Jeff doing?” The man wanted to know. 

“You know Jeff?” Keila was surprised.

“Yes, we met him a couple years ago.” The chatting continued, and before Keila left, the family readily agreed to receive more visits in the near future. And that’s how Keila met Luis and his wife Glenda with their four children, Alberto, Roberto, Esmeralda and baby Eliseo. By her second visit she was praying and studying the Bible with them.  

“Keila, could you help us out of a bind?” Luis asked her during her third visit. “My truck broke down and I don’t have the money to fix it” he explained. Luis’s little red Mazda is as patchy as the roads it frequents making runs for the Mennonites who often hire drivers to transport them and their goods since their community rules forbid them from owning or driving vehicles. Keila loaned Luis the money for the repairs so he could get back in business, knowing that the investment was more of a heavenly nature. The COVID crisis has been economically crushing to families already living hand to mouth.  

After taking Luis and Glenda all over Orange Walk looking for nearly $400 worth of parts on Thursday, Keila could have felt that her Christian obligations to go the second mile had been more than met. But Luis asked for more miles on Friday as he needed to look for a few more parts and then take them out to the mechanic shop in Shipyard, a 40-minute drive from MOVE. 

“I’m sorry, I can’t take you today” Keila answered, “But I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll loan you one of our trucks, but under one condition. You must have it back here before the beginning of the Sabbath at sundown at 6:30 this evening.”  If the strangers within our gates shall not work on the Sabbath, neither shall the strangers within our truck!

Luis thought that it would be impossible to finish everything by that time, but promised to try. 

“I am going to pray that you get done with everything early,” Keila promised. But she got busy and promptly forgot to pray all day until about 5:00 pm. Less than half an hour later, Luis called, his voice full of excitement:

“I can’t believe it, but everything is finished! My truck is ready, and I am on my way back! I will be there before 6:30! God answered your prayers!”  

As she listened, Keila felt impressed that she needed to speak to him more directly about the Sabbath. But how? When? 

How about now. God seemed to speak to her heart. Write him a letter. Yes! That’s exactly  what I’ll do! Keila thought. She grabbed her laptop and sat down immediately. The words and the Bible texts flowed and she was just hitting the print button for the four-page letter as Luis and Glenda rolled in.

 Lord, may that letter hit home. Send your Spirit to convict! We prayed when Keila shared the story with us during our worship service on the last Sabbath in July. 

In August, COVID cases began to break out in several communities in northern Belize. From one day to the next, Santa Martha and two other villages were put under total lockdown: no one could go in or out. Many families, including Luis and Glenda’s, quickly began to feel pinching necessity. MOVE responded with food baskets, all of which were also loaded with a copy of The Great Controversy. 

When the lockdown was over, Luis and Glenda came to visit. 

“We are now keeping the seventh day Sabbath!” Luis announced. “Oh, and we love that book you put in our food basket! We have been staying up until eleven or twelve every night to read it!” 

 In September the whole family came to stay at MOVE for a week, and Luis helped work in agriculture and he and Glenda took morning and evening Bible studies every day, besides attending the regular morning worship. The week extended into nearly a month, and the family was soaking up everything we could share, and even participated in mission outreach. On Sabbaths Luis picked up friends and family from the village to join us for worship. 

Luis and Glenda left MOVE at the beginning of October to go work and save money, as they plan to return for the next class session which begins in February, Lord willing. Please pray for this precious family, that they will continue to grow and persevere and be powerful witnesses to announce Present Truth and the imminent advent of our Lord Jesus Christ!  

 

“Also the sons of the stranger, that join themselves to the LORD, to serve him, and to love the name of the LORD, to be his servants, every one that keepeth the sabbath from polluting it, and taketh hold of my covenant; Even them will I bring to my holy mountain, and make them joyful in my house of prayer: their burnt offerings and their sacrifices shall be accepted upon mine altar; for mine house shall be called an house of prayer for all people.”

 Isaiah 56:6-7

The Tell of the Storms

Tropical storm Cristóbal[1] discovered the Americas on June three with pillaging winds of up to sixty mph: in all likelihood a harbinger, like its historical namesake, of a ransacking soon to follow! The brunt of Cristóbal’s force made landfall north of us in Campeche, Mexico, but heavy rains and winds still lashed us here, downing trees and limbs and showing up flawed workmanship in buildings where all had previously seemed well. Small rivers ran under the trim on the girls’ dorm windows, and a telltale puddle, decorated with leaves and other tree droppings dominated the center of the cafeteria floor. In the false ceiling above, a row of stained panels dripped like sopping sponges. On the roof I discovered that the wind had blown out the ridge-cap seals. Short screws were the culprits for the technical failure, as they had anchored only to the sheet metal. I found some longer screws and fastened the ridge cap to the rafters, making sure the foam seals were securely sandwiched between. Next, I took down the ceiling panels, cleaned, dried and repainted them. While they dried, I decided to install hurricane clips where each purlin and rafter meet. As I worked, I thanked God for this relatively little storm that showed up our substandard workmanship and weaknesses that need attention: all the places where we need to shore up the breach and fill in the gap. We need every chink of character daubed with pitch, sealed to ride out the coming tempest. Oh, and Lord, please remind us to use the long screws. 

Exactly three months later, we spent all day, Thursday, September 3, preparing campus for the arrival of hurricane Nana which was scheduled to hit Belize early in the morning. Clint and Shaw helped me take down a dangerous tree leaning over our house, and then I helped a crew of boys put extra screws in the sheet metal of every roof on campus while others took down all the recently erected shade cloths and greenhouse screens. After all that, Nana made landfall several hours to the south and quickly degraded to the status of tropical storm, hardly sparing us a drop of rain! One might lament our effort as wasted, but instead I thank God, not only for the small storms that hit, but also for those that merely threaten, for now we have a jumpstart on preparing for the big one, whenever it might come. 

Today, October 6, hurricane Delta, a dangerous category four, is skirting our coasts, destination Cancún it seems, then perhaps Louisiana. Maybe this time we won’t need to take down all our greenhouse plastic, but what of the hundreds of thousands of people who will feel the Delta force? 

 

The truth is, we can never afford to stop preparing, working, storing up, warning, imploring, pleading, plugging, and sealing up, for the fury of the coming storm is neither category four nor five, but triple six, to be followed by the perfect storm, the storm to end all storms! How can we rush out to tell the neighbors and expect them to believe us if our children are playing in the yard and we haven’t even boarded our windows? Yes, our trust must be in God, for our best preparations are nothing against the approaching gale, but the Lord has given us clear instructions, and if we really trust Him, like Noah, by God’s grace we will do all He has commanded. 

 

Lord Jesus, be my foundation! Take my heart and mind today as your dwelling place. Cleanse me as you did your temple of old. Stand in my courts today and teach your holy precepts. May your acts of love and mercy be manifest in me today! Measure me. Break down my unsightly and unneeded walls and build new ones that will enlarge this habitation. Expand and widen my heart that more of Your Spirit may abide here. Oh, Master Builder, reform and remodel this crooked, sagging, condemned building of my soul! Inspect me now and fit me to pass the coming inspection! Thank you for every storm that shows all the substandard workmanship of my own devising – all the leaks, all the weak points. I want to work along your lines today. I submit to You my plans, my will. Teach me to repair the breach and restore the paths to dwell in (Isa 58:12). Oh Jesus, my Covered Bridge, my Refuge and my Road, every phase of Sanctuary, guide me safely home I pray! 

---

[1] Cristóbal Colón is the Spanish name for Cristopher Colombus

Summer Project

Since last March, Jeff asked me to write a brochure on COVID-19 that we could print on the three-color press and distribute en mass here in Belize. Well, our press has yet to work to satisfaction, but I finally got the brochure ready, you can read it here: Coronavirus Brochure

Carl, one of our former MOVE students and current missionary in his homeland of Colombia, is helping us build the resource website that is referenced in the pamphlet, coronavirusbelize.info. If you have any materials, videos, or links that should be included in that website, please let me know! 

Miracle at the Border

 Hetty, Natalia, Cecilia and Irais stand waiting with their suitcases outside the double glass doors of the Belizean Northern Border Office of Customs and Immigration. They are on their way to work in two separate mission projects in Queretaro and Nuevo Leon, Mexico. 

Is this place even open today?  I wonder silently. Nothing stirs but a slight ocean breeze, and things seem unusually dead, even for a Sunday. Not a single taxi is in sight, and the MOVE pickup is the only vehicle in the parking lot! Lyli and I are waiting to make sure the girls can get through before we leave, otherwise they will have a long walk back to Corozal, the nearest town on this side of the border.  

Finally, an officer pokes her head out the double doors.

            “You need to wear your masks and observe proper social distancing!” she scolds before retreating into the building. Another officer soon appears.

            “Names and passports!” He demands. “Do you have the letter of permission from the Chief of Foreign Affairs?”  

            “We wrote to him last Thursday, but we never received a reply,” Irais answers. 

            The officer shakes his head emphatically. 

“You should have called him on Friday when you saw you had no answer!” the lady officer is back outside and also back to her scolding. 

“Could you give us a number for the Minister of Foreign Affairs?” 

            “Yes, but it is only an office number and will do you no good today!” 

From my vantage on a covered bench across the road I can’t hear the rest of the conversation, but I can see the girls are asking questions, and the officers just keep shaking their heads. A few minutes later the girls come back dragging their luggage and the matter seems settled: “no can do! You shall not pass today!”  

            The girls would be okay with that, but unfortunately, they have already purchased their flight from Chetumal, the city just across the border, to Mexico City for tomorrow morning at 9 o’clock. Even if they stay the night in Corozal and try to cross in the morning, unless they are able to cross by six or seven at the latest, there is no way they will make their flight. 

             Cecilia calls the airlines. No, they cannot cancel the flight without penalty. Yes, they can change the flight for the difference in fare price. When is the next available flight? Not until August first! That is over a month from now! 

“Why don’t you write again to the Chief of Foreign Affairs and tell him you are waiting at the border?” I suggest. “Of course, it would be nothing short of a miracle if he checks his email on a Sunday, and even a greater miracle if he decides to answer it!” 

About this time a car passes by and the well-intentioned driver is kind enough to roll down his window and give us some advice: 

“You might as well go back!” he says. “Immigration is closed today. You won’t be able to do anything until tomorrow morning at 8 o’clock!” 

I am tempted to tell him that we are friends with the Chief Immigration Officer—the One who opened the impenetrable border between heaven and a sin-stricken world and who specializes in opening what is impossibly shut! If He wants these girls to travel today, they will! But then again, sometimes God leaves us to the consequences of our lack of due diligence in preparing ahead of time. Maybe this will be one of those times. I just say “Thanks,” smile and wave. 

Lyli meanwhile calls the girls together and prays that God will put it in the heart of the Chief of Foreign Affairs to check his email and send the necessary permission this afternoon. It is well past lunch time now. Cecilia and Nathalia decide to stay at the border while Lyli and I take the other girls back to Corozal to buy food and to show them the house of an Adventist sister who has offered to put them up for the night if needed. 

We are on our way back out to the border when Irais suddenly gasps in surprise. “I got an email from the Chief of Foreign Affairs! He sent the permission!” The girls squeal with joy and relief. God answered our prayer! He impressed a government official to check his work email on a Sunday, and softened his heart to give a prompt and positive answer!

Within the hour, Lyli and I watch as the girls cross the Belizean border and make their way to the Mexican border control where they pass with only minor delays. 

God has sent all of us with an essential message of warning and hope to a world that is about to perish. What seemingly impossible obstacles are holding you back from fulfilling your calling? Whatever they are, do not linger in fear and doubt. God is more than willing and able to open the way for you to work. The hearts of governors and kings he holds in His hands, as the rivers of water: he turns them wherever He will. (Proverbs 21:1). Only move forward in faith, trusting in Him who is the Living Way, who opens and no man can shut, and shuts and no man can open. 

 

             

P.S. The four girls from this story all arrived safely to their mission stations where they are happily serving in health, education, and personal evangelism. Irais is a previous MOVE graduate who has been in the mentorship program this year. The other three girls are all part of generation 13, this year's class session. 

Front to back: Irais, Cecilia, Hetty and Nathalia. 

"My Privilege"

 Early in the second week of June, Jeff got a desperate phone call from Honduras.  Joel, a fourteen-year old, with a rapidly-growing brain tumor needed an immediate med-evac flight to the U.S. 

“Please, won’t you help us?” The family pleaded. They were simultaneously applying for the visa at the U.S. embassy, and trying to find doctors who would donate their services. Jeff agreed to make the flight. He takes up the story in his own words:

 

On Wednesday I found out that Joel and his parents did get their visas, so I started to apply for a flight permit into Honduras which was closed because of COVID. The Lord worked it out! I found the right contacts and they sent me a PDF of the application. I printed it, filled it out by hand, scanned it and sent it to them, and then headed to the airport to test-fly the plane, as it had been parked for quite a while. I was close to the airport already when I stopped for gas, and saw that my application had been returned because it needed to be typed! So I called the office at MOVE to get someone to help me, and at the same time I looked for an App that would let me fill out the PDF on my phone. I found one, downloaded it, filled out the form, and sent it while sitting at the gas station. At the airport I did all the pre-flight checks, made my test flight, and as soon as I landed I saw another message on my phone. You’ve got to be kidding! They sent the application back again. “You didn’t mark the destination.” I checked, and sure enough, I had missed a box while trying to fill the form out on my little phone. So I fixed that and resent it, and I’m thinking man, so many delays! I don’t know. I’m supposed to fly the next day, but to get a permit in just a few hours is very difficult even under normal circumstances, let alone in the middle of a pandemic! But would you believe it, by seven o-clock that evening I had a response: my flight was approved for the next day! 

 

The sun’s first light caught Jeff zipping down the highway toward the Philip Goldson airport. Early starts are a must on all international mission flights, as it always takes time to file the required paperwork. At least today there would be no waiting in line, not in security, not in immigration, and not on the tarmac, as the airport was closed to international flights due to COVID. Jeff knew this flight could very well end up being one-way for an indefinite period of time. Who knew when Belize would allow him back in? 

“Your exit permit?” the plump immigration officer of fine ebony complexion held out her hand expectantly, her eyebrows poised.  

“Exit permit? I have never had to file for an exit permit before!” Jeff squawked. 

“Well you do now, and who knows how long it’s going to take.” The officer wagged her head.  All Jeff could do was fill out the application, and then it was hurry up and wait. He fueled up the plane, got everything ready to go, and returned to the immigration office to sit and wait for permission to leave. 

“Hey, have you been watching the news?” the lady immigration officer asked. 

“No, I haven’t. I kind of quit,” Jeff answered. 

“Really? Man, there’s riots and all kinds of things going on in the States,” she said. “But then you don’t know what it’s like to live a marginalized life!”

 “Well, a little bit.” Jeff replied.  “You know as a foreigner, you never have quite the same rights as a national.” His answer didn’t satisfy her though, and she kept pressing him. 

What? What’s going on? Jeff thought to himself. Lord, help me out here!  Then, suddenly, inspiration struck. 

“Well you know what, I will tell you what I do know, I know about privilege!” Jeff volunteered. 

The official’s eyebrows shot up and every head in the office swiveled. Had they really just heard the lanky white pilot admit his privilege to their remonstrating colleague?  

“Sure, I know about privilege!” Jeff reiterated. “I tell that to my kids every day! You know, my kids live an interesting lifestyle, they don’t quite live the same way as their cousins who have all the toys, the four-wheeler, the plastic playhouses, the swimming pools and stuff. We live a bit simpler. But compared to their friends at church, we are millionaires! Their friends at church are children of illegal immigrants, a lot of them don’t get three meals a day, they suffer! So, I tell my kids, you guys are so privileged! Their parents love each other, they have plenty to eat! And what do they do to deserve that? Nothing! But you know, with that privilege comes responsibility! My wife this morning was crying as I was leaving. She’s like ‘Baby, do you have to go?’ and I’m like, ‘Well, if it were our child, there would be no discussion!’ On the one hand I could think, why would I leave Belize, it doesn’t have COVID, I could stay here, but I happen to be privileged. I’m a pilot, I have and airplane. These guys called me up and need a medivac. This young kid, he’s only fourteen years old. So now he has an opportunity to go to the States and be treated by skilled physicians, maybe they’ll be able to save his life!

So you are an immigration officer, you have privilege too! How many Belizeans wouldn’t like to have your job! You know, it’s easy to get on Facebook and rail about what everybody else isn’t doing, and neglect your own privilege! I know a lot of people who would consider it a privilege to have the life that other folk are lamenting! But in any case, the most important thing is that we are living to bless others with the privilege that we have. I’m not trying to say that what other people are doing isn’t wrong, but I can’t make their decisions for them! But I can sure make the decisions about what I’m doing! Anyway, you may not realize it, but even now I’m stressed! Man, I’ve got this kid’s life on my hands, I didn’t even know about the exit permit, and here we are, I’m waiting, and I’m supposed to get this kid up there as quick as I can, and it’s a difficult situation!” 

At this point one of the other immigration officers suddenly piped up, “Can I pray with you?”

“Sure! That would be wonderful!” Jeff was thrilled. 

The officer had a beautiful prayer right there in the middle of the waiting room, asking for God’s intervention and protection on behalf of Jeff and Joel. Everyone was touched, and it was a softened group of thoughtful officers that Jeff left behind when the exit permit finally came through. 

The flight to Honduras went well. Jeff landed, loaded up Joel and his parents, fueled the plane and headed for Key West, getting in just ahead of a thunderstorm. After clearing immigration and customs, they were back in the plane ready to go when a thunderstorm hit, delaying takeoff. The sun had set by now, as the airplane climbed up into a black thunderstorm soup, and Jeff had to weave his way north. His plan was to land in Ashville, North Carolina, but when he called the airport, they said the airstrip was closed for renovation. Jeff explained his situation, and the controllers agreed to hold the runway open for him until he could land. 

“When I finally got there at around 12:30 am, I didn’t know why, I figured a couple of people were working there, but there were a ton of trucks down there and they had waited for me to get in before working on the airport, it was really kind of them.” Jeff explained. 

            Joel was admitted to the hospital a few hours later and treatment began immediately. Two days later, on Sabbath, June 13 the hospital staff sent Jeff the following message: 

“This evening for the first time Joel started talking! Just little words like ‘hola,’ ‘si’, `no’ and ‘gracias.’ First time in almost two weeks! We want you to know how thankful we are that God sent your right at the last moment to help save this child’s life!”

            “Joel speaking again is the most encouraging sign and all the MDS and nurses are amazed at the whole plane ride and how this child came to them. It is clearly a testimony to the world of who God is and how he works and uses others as His hands” Jeff commented in the MOVE staff group chat. 

On Tuesday, June 16 Jeff forward us another update. 

“They are doing chemo. Joel has a germ-cell tumor in the pineal part of the brain which is right in the center. There are two types, unfortunately he has the worst one. It’s growing rapidly and is too large to take out. The good news is that this type of tumor responds well to chemo and they believe he will recover and eventually be a normal teenage boy again. Jeff you got him here just in time brother, he wouldn’t have made it much longer.” 

Unfortunately, Joel didn’t make it much longer even with treatments and the doctors’ best efforts. 

            “We’re so sorry…” the family liaison told Jeff over the phone. “Sorry you did everything you did only to have this outcome.” 

            “I’m not sorry!” Jeff replied. “I mean, I am so sorry Joel passed away, but I am not at all sorry I made the flight. If you asked me again, I would do it again. We don’t know the future, and I prefer to live life with no regrets. And I don’t regret taking him at all. It was my privilege!”

Joel, ready to get on the plane

In the plane

Joel, before the tumor struck

            To the day of this writing (September 25), Jeff is still in the U.S., working on a building project for a mission base in Tennessee. In early July he was able to return as far as the Philip Goldson airport to drop some things for the school and to pick up his family, although he was barely allowed out of his plane, coming as he was from a pandemic hotbed! 

Jeff and his family are still trying to make their privileges count for the Kingdom of God, as they take advantage of opportunities to reach out to everyone God puts in their pathway, from a missionary’s video-gaming brother, to a navy officer and his family who spent last Friday in the Sutton home and stayed for family worship to welcome in the Sabbath! 

So how about you? What are you doing with your privileges? All around us there are people dying to have the peace, hope, purpose and every other privilege we have through Christ. Won’t you share the love wherewith Christ has loved you in every way possible? It is the best investment you will ever make!

 

2020 February and March Newsletters

February newsletter 

March newsletter

FACING THE END WITH JOY

          Lyli and I are back in Belize as of Tuesday, about to start our first class session of 2020 with about 20 students give or take a few, and fewer staff than we’ve had in awhile! I have been meaning to get a report off to you since the end of last month, but things have been intense lately, and I thought I would first send you a report about that, as follows: 

A Volcano chain activates in the Philippines, the U.S. and Iran spar on the verge of outright war, the deadly and highly-contagious Corona-virus spawns in China, a series of earthquakes rocks the Caribbean, the Outback burns, and EGW is declared heretic of the week by the Catholic Herald! Just a cursory account of this month’s headlines confirms that 2020 is off to a rip-roaring start! My personal landscape was under violent attack as well with the sudden and tragic death of my dear mother. 

Mom and Dad on a hike together in 2019

Yet despite the insane raging of this plagued planet and the fiends that haunt and harass it, I detect the infinite hand of our Holy Creator and Compassionate Redeemer, and under me I feel His faithful, everlasting arms. He has been, and still is, more than good to me! So to the oft queried “how are you?” with Paul (and Dad, who sent me these verses today) I aim to answer, by the grace of God, “troubled on every side, but not distressed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.” May we truly embrace the cross and the dying of our Lord Jesus as we walk day by day, that we may also truly experience the power of His resurrection! (2 Corinthians 4:6-10) Our God has conquered the grave. He is a LIVING GOD! He is my God! What unfathomable peace, what joy inexplicable! In the face of everything, I still cannot help but revel in the goodness and mercy of God. Among so many other blessings, for twenty years He allowed my family the precious gift of mom's life, such a beautiful life that reflected His love in so many ways! 

 

This last November I felt impelled to be at home for Thanksgiving. I didn’t really have a practical reason, especially since I would be in the States in January for GYC, and it would have made more sense to wait and visit my parents afterward. In retrospect, I suspect God put that strong desire in my heart. Of course, it helped that my brother and his family were planning to be home for Thanksgiving too! We had a beautiful time together. I never dreamed it would be our last with mom. 

After our visit home, we returned to Belize on December 11 to help with the family camp at MOVE, and then went to Guatemala with a group from our local church for twelve powerful days of evangelism, (see yesterday's post) and arrived back at MOVE, Sunday, the 29^th.  I was scanning my emails that evening, when I saw one from Dad with the subject “Connie’s Accident.” 

 

Dear church family,

 

Connie had a terrible fall to her head off a ladder. Please pray earnestly for her. She is on the way to Enlow. I will follow. Please do not call or visit tonight. PRAY.

 

Enloe, with its elite neurological trauma ICU, receives the direst cases from the whole region. Immediately I called my brother, sister and grandparents. Kami and Jered drove down from the northwest to be with Dad the next morning, and Lyli and I were able to join them by Wednesday evening. Mom’s sisters also came to be with us all. 

Mom’s injury resulted in severe hemorrhaging and subsequent swelling in both temporal lobes of the brain. The medical team did the best they could to manage mom’s intracranial pressure with a combination of medications and a stint in an effort to limit further brain damage. Because of the nature of the injury, surgery was not a viable option. 

Mom in the ICU after her fall from the ladder

 The next week was a blur: a painful, slow, seemingly inert blur of trips from the house to the hospital to the house and back again to the hospital, and phone calls, emails, texts, and prayers, lots of prayers. Prayers in the waiting room with friends and pastors, prayers in the hospital chapel, prayers on the phone, prayers during the anointing service, prayers outside and around the hospital with nearly 50 church members on Sabbath afternoon, prayers by myself in the dark on my bed, prayers in the ICU around mom’s bed, prayers in my head. Prayers from friends literally all around the world. Several church members reported about a special Wednesday night prayer meeting with unusually high attendance. "The room was so full, some folks were standing. We had a powerful and moving time of prayer." 

 

On Sabbath, January 4, in the midst of the outpouring of love and fervent, zealous spirit of entreaty, Dad sent out this email:

 

Dear Family and Friends: 

 

I dearly appreciate and love each one of you. Thank you so much for all your prayers, love, and support. Connie has been on full life support his week. She had her last dose of the coma-inducing medicine about noon yesterday so we should be understanding more about the real effects of her injury within the next 24 hours if not before then. I did check an hour ago, and she is not breathing on her own yet. We have faith in the power of God to raise her to us in full recovery, but must trust in our loving Father however He chooses to intervene. 

My son Jered and daughter Kami have been here and have given tremendous support. They left for home, but Kody and Lyli are here. I still remain limited with the amount of conversation, phone calls, texts and emails I can handle right now, but God is gracious and good. 

When the Sabbath began last night I felt the special peace of God. I have given Connie over and over into God’s care and keeping. Whatever happens, I believe that she is safe in his care. That doesn’t mean I still don’t have a good cry every so often, but the sustaining grace of God is keeping our hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. 

 I stand amazed at the outpouring of prayer for my dear wife. Sometimes I wonder what would happen if we would approach God with the same intensity for the outpouring of His Holy Spirit and eternal life for people. Here is something helpful I found about this:

 

‘Many have in a great measure failed to receive the former rain. They have not obtained all the benefits that God has thus provided for them. They expect that the lack will be supplied by the latter rain. When the richest abundance of grace shall be bestowed, they intend to open their hearts to receive it. They are making a terrible mistake. The work that God has begun in the human heart in giving His light and knowledge must be continually going forward. Every individual must realize his own necessity. The heart must be emptied of every defilement and cleansed for the indwelling of the Spirit. It was by the confession and forsaking of sin, by earnest prayer and consecration of themselves to God, that the early disciples prepared for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on the Day of Pentecost. The same work, only in greater degree, must be done now. Then the human agent had only to ask for the blessing, and wait for the Lord to perfect the work concerning him. It is God who began the work, and He will finish His work, making man complete in Jesus Christ. But there must be no neglect of the grace represented by the former rain. Only those who are living up to the light they have will receive greater light. Unless we are daily advancing in the exemplification of the active Christian virtues, we shall not recognize the manifestations of the Holy Spirit in the latter rain. It may be falling on hearts all around us, but we shall not discern or receive it. (Tm 507.1). 

 

Whether Connie lives or dies, if our difficult experience can become a stimulus to each of us to seek God with similar intensity in repentance, confession, and the forsaking of sin, our sufferings will have been well worth it. 

It is our scriptural privilege that even every thought be brought into captivity to the obedience of Christ. This can only come as we daily contemplate the cross and the enormity of the sacrifice the godhead made in paying a debt we could never pay, accepting it by faith daily, and giving ourselves to the revealed will of God without holding one thing back, depending on the power of the Word and the Holy Spirit to bring about the transformation of heart and mind. Our lives will then show the obedience of love to the commandments of God, which is a condition of salvation. We will come into unity with one another in a way that we have never experienced, reflecting the unity of the Father and the Son. (John 17). 

…Thank you for praying for Connie and myself for we surely need it. I am praying for each of you and beyond for each member of the Seventh-day Adventist church, including myself, that we will experience all of the above, receive the Latter Rain, finish the work of giving the three-angel’s messages, God’s last message of mercy to the world, and to be prepared to go home without one missing.

 

In the love of Christ, 

 

Pastor Larre Kostenko

 

Despite the medical team’s valiant efforts, Mom went to sleep in Jesus three days later, Tuesday morning, January 7. The next week was another long blur of arrangements for the memorial service, compiling and composing mom's Eulogy (see attached) and just helping Dad cope. Yet through it all, this theme of prayer kept appearing everywhere.

On the living room coffee table, I found Mom’s prayer list with dozens of names and needs: Bible study interests, sick members, and Adventist youth attending public school. On Mom’s nightstand I found a book titled “Daring to Ask God for More” bookmarked halfway through, and by her chair in the living room another book titled “Steps to Personal Revival: Being filled with the Holy Spirit.” Mom had been on a journey of prayer herself. Several ladies from the church remarked how much they will miss Mom praying with them on the phone.  

Mom with a couple sisters from church: full of joy and loving service

Mom greets parishioners at the Golden Feather church

 At home on the kitchen table was a stack of materials for “Seeking God’s Spirit,” the General Conference 10-days of prayer initiative, January 8-18. Mom had printed it out for the members of Dad’s two churches. She had also compiled a list of quotes about the conditions for receiving the Holy Spirit. Lyli and I read the powerful testimonies and prayed for the listed prayer requests each day. One day called for us to pray for the Spirit of supplication (Zechariah 12:10). Since then I see God answering that prayer in remarkable ways as I feel a deep need and desire to pray, both alone and with others. Today my wife and I prayed silently and aloud for nearly an hour as we drove to the airport to pick up the rest of the MOVE team, arriving from two weeks of mission conferences in Colombia and Bolivia.  

This world is winding up for the final climax. Everything is in place for the final showdown between Christ and Satan as outlined in Bible prophecy. Everything, that is, except the professed people of God. Oh yes, we see what’s coming, we believe it is coming, and we even claim to trust God to see us through, as we sit back and do nothing. Lord have mercy!  

The Spirit of Comfort and Truth, that Holy Spirit of Suplication still intercedes, interpreting our prayers with inexpressible groaning. Oh how we must make him groan sometimes! Jesus yet prays for you and me, that our faith fail not, that we would be converted, that we would strengthen the brethren! God still invites and pleads for us to find in Him our refuge, to enter into the secret chamber of the Most High, that Most Holy Place of His presence. Until we come to know that place intimately, how can we invite others to enter there, to enter into His rest? 

        We know how the story of this earth ends. But what about my story? What about yours? It is time to learn how to pray, how to wrestle with God, in deep contrition, repentance and humility.  What tragedy can outweigh that of a squandered salvation? What could merit more tears than the horrendous rip-off of trading in eternal life to hang on to our sin? If we would pray as we should we would also work and live as we should! May this year, 2020, be a year of breakthroughs, of victories, of a restored Spiritual vision apace with the times, of accelerated, unflagging labor for the salvation of everyone we know and even those we don't know yet! May we abide in Christ, the Source of peace, strength, hope, holiness and everything good and beautiful! Look up! Face the end with joy! Our redemption is near, oh so near! 

ENCUENTROS: more divine appointments

 Our twelve-day mission trip to Guatemala this last December 17-29 is nearly worthy of a book of its own. Unfortunately, I don’t have the time to write all the stories, but I am sure there is a much more interesting, beautiful and detailed account recorded in heaven. Maybe we can all read it together during the Millennium! That said, I had to share a few extra stories with you that didn’t make it into the December newsletter.  

On the afternoon of December 18, we arrived in the mountains of Los Encuentros along with a cold front of wind and rain.  The original word had been that we would be camping, but some kind soul had made arrangements with the town council at the last minute, and they conceded us the school building which was conveniently available as Guatemala’s school cycle ends in October and begins in January. Boy, were we glad for that roof over our heads as the rain continued for several days! The rain turned out to be a godsend, however, because the village water was turned off when we arrived! So we collected runoff from the tin roof for cooking, bathing and flushing the toilets. After installing our tents in one of the classrooms, and cooking dinner over an open fire in the shed next to school, we went to the Suchite residence to do a small-group worship service. 

            The next day we started door-to-door visitation. Besides the Cawich and Chavez family, Lyli and myself, we had three MOVE graduates with us: Melinda and Yuvini from Belize, and Israel from Nicaragua. Israel brought his friend José Jiminez along too. José is an exuberant Pathfinder Master Guide leader, who used his vacation time from his job with an American company to come on the mission trip.

“Isra even paid for my trip up here!” José told us later. “But he didn’t tell me until we got here that there is no money for the return trip!” 

More than once during our twelve days together he praised God for the experience he was having, which turned out to be like a big shot of spiritual vitamins! José went home with renewed faith and focus.

“I am definitely going to get more involved in mission work at my home church again!” He promised. “As soon as I get a little money saved I am going to come take the training program at MOVE, and do my six months of service. After that I want to study theology and be a missionary pastor!”  Please pray for José, that he will follow through by the grace of God! 

Left to right: Noelito, Israel, and José,
enjoying the Mountain View over Los Encuentros

José, Yuvini, Israel and Miguel were out visiting one morning when they saw a little old man struggling to drag a large wooden post down the road. Immediately they went to his aid. He wanted to help them carry the load, but was so short he could only hang from the beam, so the boys told him to just lead the way! Their small act of kindness did not go unnoticed by the neighbors. 

“You guys are different than other Christians!” A man named Manuel told the boys later that day. “Other people here who go to church will pass you on the road and not even look at you, but you guys actually care about others!” Manuel received us into his home, began Bible studies, and attended several nights of the evangelistic meetings! Manuel is next-door neighbor to the only baptized Adventist in the village, (see December newsletter, linked in my previous post) and Mr. Valeriano has promised to continue the studies.

 

“There’s going to be a big shindig at the corral and the ball field starting Sunday” the villagers warned us. Bull riding, music, dancing, drinking and carousing were all on the docket. 

Oh dear, maybe it’s not such a good idea to try to hold our meetings those nights, at least not here at the school! I thought. But then I realized, this could be a way for even more people to find out about our meetings. As it turned out, the party music cut off right before we started our first meeting and didn’t come on again until we were finished! The brothers from the church at Machaquila loaned us their sound system, and the Word of God was heard by all passers by, many of whom stopped to listen for awhile. Others told us later that they had heard the preaching clearly from the comfort of their own homes!

Adult meetings held in the government school breezeway. Interest was high!

My precious wife leads the children meetings in one of the classrooms.
Some nights there were up to 70 in attendance!

Yuvini (far left) poses with villagers who attended the meetings and received Bibles

         

Israel had a powerful experience giving Bible studies to the most influential man in town, a well-to-do rancher and president of the town council named Mr. Cecilio. During their last study, God put it on Israel’s heart to go through the parables of the prodigal son and the lost coin. By the end of the study both the tough old rancher and his wife were in tears. Both are Christians who had fallen away from God. Their son is now a drug addict, a shame and a menace to the family. God gave Israel powerful words of comfort and courage as he prayed with the family, and when we packed up to leave, Mr. Cecilio, his treasurer and secretary all came out to thank the team, say goodbye, and invite us to return whenever we wish! 

 

ANOTHER DIVINE ENCOUNTER

 

When I arrived back at the school where we were staying after morning visitation, I saw a man standing outside the crowded classroom where Lyli was doing crafts with the kids. I approached and greeted him. His name was Rolando. Turns out he works in Belize three month periods at certain times during the year,  trying to "get ahead" in life. “I opened a clothing store here for my wife to operate while I am away. We live just up the road. My daughter was begging to come to this… I was busy, but when I got done I brought her down, but it looks like the activities are about over.” he remarked. 

I explained what we do and asked if I could visit him at home.

           “We have meetings in the evenings too, and there are videos for the kids! Y'all should come!”

           Christmas day I went to visit Rolando, but he wasn’t home. Only his pregnant wife, eight months with child. Two girls arrived on horseback with firewood. “They are going to bake bread today” she motioned to the big clay oven behind the kitchen. 

            Two days later I was walking by with Lyli on a quick trip to the store and I saw Rolando on his front porch. 

“I have to visit him while he’s home,” I told Lyli. But I had a Bible study scheduled with another family. It was nearly 4:00 pm before I got to his house.  

            “Y’all don't celebrate Christmas do you?” Rolando asked after several minutes of small talk.  

            “Well, not in the same way that most people do, but we do enjoy having special family time. Also, Christmas is a great opportunity to talk about Jesus and what He did for us in coming as a man and what that means for us today.” 

            “You’re different than the JW’s then." He observed. "You’re Sabbath keepers aren’t you?” 

            “Yes on both accounts!” I smiled and shared a couple verses with him. 

            “But your Bible says sábado. Mine just says the day of rest!” Rolando protested. 

            “Yes, some Bibles translate it that way” I agreed. “I have a Bible that says that as well, but there is a little asterisk by the phrase dia de reposo, and in the margin it says that it is equivalent to sábado. Also, the fourth commandment clarifies that God’s day of rest is the seventh day.” I turned to Exodus 20. 

 

WHICH DAY IS THE SEVENTH DAY?

 

The devil has different lies for different guys, and sometimes he has to adapt them to the language. In English people tend to think that Sunday is the Sabbath. In Spanish, people don’t really have that problem because Saturday in Spanish is sabado, or “Sabbath”!  So folks here aren't fooled about which day is Sabbath! It's a no brainer! We have learned, however, that one of the false narratives at these latitudes is that Sunday is the seventh day! The people in Los Encuentros are so ingrained in this tradition that when Lyli taught the children the days of creation and told them that God rested on the 7^th day and made it holy, and then asked “which day is the seventh day?” she was shocked by the unanimous chorus of enthusiastic voices shouting “Domingo!” Also, on this same trip, Brother Daniel Cawich and his wife Mirta studied the Bible with Verónica, an earnest seeker full of questions, one of which was: “Which day is the seventh day?” 

Now, I have seen some newer calendars, and even a Spanish Encyclopedia from 2009 that actually have the audacity to list Sunday as the seventh day of the week, but all the calendars that I saw in Los Encuentros were still of the traditional sort. Still, Rolando insisted that Sunday is the seventh day, and went to get his calendar. 

“See, Sunday is in red” he showed me, as if to prove his point. This was the first time I had ever heard of a cultural identification of the color red with the number seven, but I made no comment! I just counted the days of the week out loud for him from left to right, and what do you know, they were still in order, and sábado is the 7^th day! 

“But domingo is in red ink! Besides, people here get paid on Sabbath to end the work week and everyone keeps Sunday! Only you Adventists keep Sabbath!” Rolando insisted. 

            “Jesus and the apostles also kept the Sabbath!” I offered. “Also, remember that biblically speaking, the majority has never been the safe option! Jesus said the wide road is not the safe road!”

“If the Sabbath is so important, I will do a fast and the Lord will show me the truth!” Rolando concluded. 

             “I’m glad to hear you say that, and I know that as you pray and fast and read God’s Word with an open and sincere heart, He will give you all the right answers!” I encouraged. “It’s like it says in John 7:17: ‘If any man will do His will, He will know of the doctrine whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.’ So the most important thing is that you be willing to do God’s will whatever it may be, and then seek to know His will.” 

            “I believe in God,” Rolando said. “No one can convince me that He’s not real because He healed me!”

“That’s wonderful! Tell me about it!”

 

ROLANDO'S SPECTACULAR EXPERIENCE

 

“I was raised an evangelical, my Dad is a pastor, but as a young man I drifted away, seeking pleasure, and became addicted to drugs and alcohol.” Rolando began. “In order not to disgrace my father’s ministry, I moved away. One day I received an injury over an altercation about a girl. I was in critical condition, and was alone in my hut, near death, when some evangelical Christians came to visit me. They asked me if I was a believer. I said yes, and they began to pray. I lost consciousness and seemed to drift up and above myself. I saw two great pillars and an open door from which poured out a cloud of white smoke. Inside I could hear the voice of singing. I lifted my foot to enter, when I remembered I had never said good-bye to my father. Suddenly I awoke, back in my bed!

‘He’s revived!’ shouted the older visitor, the pastor. 

"Oh Lord, I realized. I died but now I’m back!  At that moment I felt a warm tingling that began at my toes and rose to the top of my head and I knew that I was healed! Suddenly I saw a shining being over 12 feet tall standing in the corner of the room. 

            ‘Look, look!’ I grabbed the pastor’s arm and pointed. There’s someone here!’

            ‘There’s nobody there!’ replied the pastor emphatically, but I could see him plainly. Solemnly he lifted is arm and pointing at me said       ‘You have been healed! You now have the gift of healing and you are commissioned to take that healing to others.’” 

Rolando finished his testimony. While I don’t doubt that God in mercy saved his life, I was struck by the sudden thought it would be just like the devil to make a fellow sick to death, and then "heal" him to leave him doubly deceived! The Lord kept me silent on that point however, and I just kept listening.

            “I know I have failed to obey that call.” Rolando confessed. “For a while I was active in church, but you know the devil never sleeps and I soon became discouraged. The brethren would be so kind and pious at church, but then during the week some would gossip and backstab while others lived in sin, and I thought man, if Christ were to come at this moment they would be lost! Eventually I stopped going to church and fell back into my vices. Then one day while drunk in Poptún I was nearly killed. I knew I was failing God and I was very afraid to die. So I tried to change my life again. I no longer drink. I just work, and then home to the family and the kids. But I know I am not fulfilling God’s commission. This,” He gestured at the house and yard “is just a wimb of mine, just doing my own thing…”

            The man is under conviction. I realized. I need to say something! Lord, give me the right words! 

THE CALL

            “The fact that you feel that way is evidence that God is still calling you.” I encouraged. “He is speaking to you again today! He has plans for your life! Don’t put Him off any longer!” I urged. “Just make sure that you are willing to do all his will. His will is in His word! Study what He asks you to do in His Word! Many passages in Scripture tell us what God’s will is for our lives.” I shared 1 Thess 4:3, Matt 12:50, and Lk 8:21.  “And so, as powerful as miracles and supernatural experiences can be, by themselves they are no guarantee that we doing God's will!” I turned to Matthew 7. “This is the same passage that we talked about earlier, where Jesus warns us not to follow the crowd because the path to eternal life is narrow and only a few find it! Just a few verses later Jesus explains that not even all those who claim to be Christians and work miracles will be saved, but only the wise who build on the rock!” I read verses 21-24. “So we see that what makes the saving difference is when we listen to God’s Word and do what it says!”

            “Hey, you guys really do use the same Bible we do” Rolando tried to shift the conversation. “I remember reading these same texts you just shared.” 

            “Do you have a Bible here at home?” I asked.

            “Just a New Testament. I had a complete Bible, but it is at my sister’s house in Poptún.” 

            “I have an extra Bible here with me, I’d love for you to have it!” I offered.

            “Oh yes, absolutely.” Rolando took it gratefully. 

We said goodbye, but not before I invited him to the evening meetings again along with his wife and daughter. I was really excited when the whole family showed up that night! After the program I spoke to them for a few minutes, and gave them a Steps to Christ and a booklet of study guides called “The Faith of Jesus.” They had already left when I felt strongly that I should have given them a copy of the book “When God said Remember” by Mark Finley as well. 

            “Why don't you take it by their house tomorrow morning” Lyli suggested. The next morning when I arrived at Rolando’s house, he was already gone, but his wife sat at the counter in their clothing store with the new Bible open in front of her. Pencil in hand, she was looking up texts and answering the questions from the first Bible study in “The Faith of Jesus” booklet! Her daughter sat on the floor looking at the pictures in Steps to Christ. A customer entered right behind me, so I wasn’t able to chat, but I greeted her with a smile, handed her the Sabbath book, and left praising God! Lord, may You bring forth a rich harvest from the seeds we scattered!