Like a leaky faucet water droplets fall off the brim of my hat. The rain doesn’t stop for anyone or anything. Being in the outer rim of a hurricane’s wrath makes you wish you would’ve packed everything in Ziploc bags, including yourself. Being in Central America during the rainy season also alerts your body to some previously unknown facts. Realizing that there is truly no part of your body that has not been dampened by the unrelenting rains, you stop making fun of the silly looking Wal-Mart rain poncho that your teammate is wearing. Truly like a scene from a movie the islands in the gulf of Costa Rica are visible only a few times through the blankets of rolling fog. My imagination runs with the ideas of dinosaurs or King Kong peering through the dense forests watching our boat slip past the rocky shore. Somewhere on the island though is a school, where students are waiting.
Our day began with a painstakingly slow hour and a half drive across Costa Rica’s infamous roads. We finally arrived at a small river among the mangrove and palm trees where we got out of the cars. Where are the boats I asked; all I got in response was an outstretched arm pointing down the river. We secured the equipment in large garbage bags to protect from the looming rain clouds and we began our journey downstream. I chose wisely to remove my shoes and socks, although the thought of stepping on a crab or some shells was no consolation to my decision. As the mud climbed up my leg I soon realized that distance is a relative term depending on what country you are from.
We soon reached the boat and loaded the equipment; then we were faced with the difficult part of having to push the boat into deeper water. The water soon reached my thigh and the mud was coming up to the lower part of my knee, regardless of how high you roll your pants, you realize that blue jeans are not the fastest drying pants in the world. Soon we were out far enough that the driver could lower the engine. The open water awaited us.
We made our way across the water towards one of the islands. There are no cars or trucks on the island so we pretty much pulled right up onto the beach in front of the first school. We dropped off the first team and the film equipment, we then headed to the high school and breakfast, it was ten ‘til twelve in the morning.
Scrambled eggs, brown rice and black beans truly never looked, smelled or tasted so good. The coffee needed a lot of sugar but that was worth it also. After finishing my plate and wishing I could have about three more the students began coming into the room. About 25 in all they filled the small cafeteria we had transformed into a theatre that afternoon. Here in Costa Rica we are sometimes unable to hand out the Book of Hope in schools; however the GodMan film is widely accepted and used throughout the country to tell the students the truth of God’s love for them.
As I introduced the movie I told them that this was a story that has changed everyone’s life on our team. It was a story that they had to choose whether to accept or reject, they had to make a decision about what they thought about their place in the story.
After the film, the room sat quiet as we continued to speak about their choices in life and what the consequences for those decisions could be. Unable to give a salvation message to the kids we encouraged them to make good choices and live in a positive way. We told them never to forget the message they had just seen in their public school cafeteria.
We told them to remember that each one was created with a specific purpose and plan for your life, remember that God loves you and cares very much about you. As I made my way barefoot down the hill toward the boat I am comforted by the knowledge that one of the ladies we are working with will continue to follow-up with the kids at this school. In the same moment my mind switched gears to prepare for more ministry in the evening; the day isn’t finished yet as we still have two more churches to show the film at where about a hundred kids are waiting. Showers, rest and being dry will come later in the day than I was hoping.
12.03.2005
11.02.2005
40 Prisoners
In a small rehabilitation center on the outskirts of Morelia Mexico a group of forty men slowly walk out of the confined quarters of the meeting room. Heads down, hands clasped behind their backs looking at nothing but their feet moving across the floor. They are not as much prisoners of the building as much as prisoners of the choices they’ve made in the past. They are all here trying to rebuild their lives after being addicted to alcohol or drugs.
We all came to the meeting with certain expectations about who they would be and what they would look like. This was definitely not the usual type of presentation that we’re used to at Book of Hope. All these men were all at least as old as I am or older. Definitely not the crowd we’re used to speaking to. Yet these men opened their hearts and lives to us for an hour as we presented Hope to them. We were allowed to show a movie to them about the life of Jesus. Book of Hope’s animated movie “The GodMan” may have been created to reach a younger audience than these men; yet somewhere deep inside them they knew this was their story as well. It was the story of how someone greater than them had given up everything to live among us and die in our place. That is the story that transcends time, social status, languages, cultural differences, race, gender or environmental being.
I suppose there really is no difference between those 40 men and I. We’ve all been prisoners at one time to things that we thought would bring us happiness or fulfillment, and God doesn’t judge in “shades” or levels of sin. In our world we have different types of law breaking, in His eyes it all looks the same. There is no worse sin than another, there is no smaller or less significant rule breaking. No lessening to the degree of what we’ve done against God.
I think this idea really hits when you start thinking that you’re somehow better or more holy than the people you’re speaking to. Forgetting where your passport was issued, what color your skin is or isn’t, what language you speak or where you’re from. Instead remembering what an honor it is that God would choose us to send His message. How incredible that He would let us carry this message of redemption and love. Remembering that we were just like those we are now speaking to. No better in any way, just aware of the truth that God has revealed to us.
As we finished our presentation many of the men began giving short testimonies about what God had done in their lives. Some asked simply if they could share, others just stood up and started talking. Some even tried relating their story in English, only to quickly switch to Spanish to fully detail the events.
These men have made different choices than I have in life, they were born into different circumstances and different environments. Maybe our stories would have been switched had we been born in different places. In the same way God looks at sin all the same, He now looks down and sees those 40 prisoners and I the same. His children.
We all came to the meeting with certain expectations about who they would be and what they would look like. This was definitely not the usual type of presentation that we’re used to at Book of Hope. All these men were all at least as old as I am or older. Definitely not the crowd we’re used to speaking to. Yet these men opened their hearts and lives to us for an hour as we presented Hope to them. We were allowed to show a movie to them about the life of Jesus. Book of Hope’s animated movie “The GodMan” may have been created to reach a younger audience than these men; yet somewhere deep inside them they knew this was their story as well. It was the story of how someone greater than them had given up everything to live among us and die in our place. That is the story that transcends time, social status, languages, cultural differences, race, gender or environmental being.
I suppose there really is no difference between those 40 men and I. We’ve all been prisoners at one time to things that we thought would bring us happiness or fulfillment, and God doesn’t judge in “shades” or levels of sin. In our world we have different types of law breaking, in His eyes it all looks the same. There is no worse sin than another, there is no smaller or less significant rule breaking. No lessening to the degree of what we’ve done against God.
I think this idea really hits when you start thinking that you’re somehow better or more holy than the people you’re speaking to. Forgetting where your passport was issued, what color your skin is or isn’t, what language you speak or where you’re from. Instead remembering what an honor it is that God would choose us to send His message. How incredible that He would let us carry this message of redemption and love. Remembering that we were just like those we are now speaking to. No better in any way, just aware of the truth that God has revealed to us.
As we finished our presentation many of the men began giving short testimonies about what God had done in their lives. Some asked simply if they could share, others just stood up and started talking. Some even tried relating their story in English, only to quickly switch to Spanish to fully detail the events.
These men have made different choices than I have in life, they were born into different circumstances and different environments. Maybe our stories would have been switched had we been born in different places. In the same way God looks at sin all the same, He now looks down and sees those 40 prisoners and I the same. His children.
9.21.2005
Where´s the Church
Seat 22C on an American Airlines flight isn’t anything that unusual to be sure. Not an exit row or over the wing, definitely not first class and not too close to the bathrooms. As I looked at my boarding pass I wondered how long this flight would be, would it be very crowded and who will I be sitting by? As I waited in the aisle of the plane I scanned down to try and count out the rows to see if I could figure out if the row was full or not.
As I neared my seat I looked to see the middle one was open and I was on the aisle, well that probably won’t last long. I greeted my fellow aisle-issued traveler with a “Hello”. As I put my bags quickly under my seat and got out of the aisle, without really thinking I asked how things were going, she surprisingly replied that her day was very crazy. Ok I thought to myself, we have come to a decision point, pursue the conversation and find out what’s going on in this girls life or let it slide and read the three magazines and type away on my computer for the rest of the flight.
I chose option one.
What followed was two hours of conversation I truly never expected to hear from such a young person. She was traveling back to be with her family in Texas after spending two months in Florida with her boyfriend. Drug-abuse, four family splits, a one year old baby boy, friends committing suicide and two trips to rehab later I sat stunned that I had just heard all this. I really didn’t know how to offer and hope to this young lady. If I was in front of 500 Guatemalan kids I could rattle off our traditional Book of Hope presentation without thinking twice. I’m a professional in what I do and how it’s to be done. I can take any audience of kids wherever you want them to go, I can play any part in any drama, do any testimony at any time, I can set-up sound systems and troubleshoot them. I’ve got experience in over 18 different nations. But what does it matter if I can’t simply explain how Christ cares and loves this girl.
We had already covered all the surface type questions, and I didn’t really know where to go from there when she asked me if I had ever been involved in drugs. I guess this was the open door I had been looking to find. I explained parts of my story and how I had never done drugs because of the effect they had on my family and friends. I told how drugs had messed up a lot of my friends and I knew that I didn’t want to do that. Then I started to tell her about God. About how He cares and loves and is a friend to people in need. How it is more than going to church and that relationship I have with God helped me avoid those bad decisions. There is a reason that I didn’t do drugs and it was because I want something better for my life.
We continued talking for much of the rest of the flight about God and the part he can play in each of our lives. During much of her story I kept wondering how her life would have been different if someone could have intervened. What would her story be like if someone from the church she was attending had cared enough to reach out. What would she be telling me today if the church had done what it is supposed to do?
It doesn’t take ministerial credentials to listen and be a caring person. That’s what the world is looking for. Someone that will take the time and be Jesus to them, they are looking for a face to put on God.
On one hand, I wanted to encourage her to find a church and people that could help her. Go back to God, find out what he has for you. Find a good church that has people that will pray for you and keep you accountable. Yet in the same moment it frightened me to think how those church members would react or treat her when they heard her story. Where is the church today? Where are the people who will take in the hurting and hopeless world? Are we too busy with committee meetings and church services trying to decide the best hymnals to sing? Are we missing the people because we’re arguing over the best program to reach them?
Our team will be traveling the next 3 months into Mexico, Costa Rica and Panama. These countries each present different challenges; but please pray specifically for open doors to schools and the local churches to be receptive to the Book of Hope ministry. Please also pray for me as I attempt to lead an intern team into the great unkown. I need God’s help daily for I know that I cannot do anything without Him.
I don’t write this with any malice or negative intentions. Only to help us all think about the people we are impacting and the lives we are commissioned to change. Be aware of the people around you, we really don’t know the impact a kind word or a listening ear can be.
Where is the church and how can we change? How can we be the refuge to the world we are meant to be?
A girl named Lyndsey in 22A would like to know.
As I neared my seat I looked to see the middle one was open and I was on the aisle, well that probably won’t last long. I greeted my fellow aisle-issued traveler with a “Hello”. As I put my bags quickly under my seat and got out of the aisle, without really thinking I asked how things were going, she surprisingly replied that her day was very crazy. Ok I thought to myself, we have come to a decision point, pursue the conversation and find out what’s going on in this girls life or let it slide and read the three magazines and type away on my computer for the rest of the flight.
I chose option one.
What followed was two hours of conversation I truly never expected to hear from such a young person. She was traveling back to be with her family in Texas after spending two months in Florida with her boyfriend. Drug-abuse, four family splits, a one year old baby boy, friends committing suicide and two trips to rehab later I sat stunned that I had just heard all this. I really didn’t know how to offer and hope to this young lady. If I was in front of 500 Guatemalan kids I could rattle off our traditional Book of Hope presentation without thinking twice. I’m a professional in what I do and how it’s to be done. I can take any audience of kids wherever you want them to go, I can play any part in any drama, do any testimony at any time, I can set-up sound systems and troubleshoot them. I’ve got experience in over 18 different nations. But what does it matter if I can’t simply explain how Christ cares and loves this girl.
We had already covered all the surface type questions, and I didn’t really know where to go from there when she asked me if I had ever been involved in drugs. I guess this was the open door I had been looking to find. I explained parts of my story and how I had never done drugs because of the effect they had on my family and friends. I told how drugs had messed up a lot of my friends and I knew that I didn’t want to do that. Then I started to tell her about God. About how He cares and loves and is a friend to people in need. How it is more than going to church and that relationship I have with God helped me avoid those bad decisions. There is a reason that I didn’t do drugs and it was because I want something better for my life.
We continued talking for much of the rest of the flight about God and the part he can play in each of our lives. During much of her story I kept wondering how her life would have been different if someone could have intervened. What would her story be like if someone from the church she was attending had cared enough to reach out. What would she be telling me today if the church had done what it is supposed to do?
It doesn’t take ministerial credentials to listen and be a caring person. That’s what the world is looking for. Someone that will take the time and be Jesus to them, they are looking for a face to put on God.
On one hand, I wanted to encourage her to find a church and people that could help her. Go back to God, find out what he has for you. Find a good church that has people that will pray for you and keep you accountable. Yet in the same moment it frightened me to think how those church members would react or treat her when they heard her story. Where is the church today? Where are the people who will take in the hurting and hopeless world? Are we too busy with committee meetings and church services trying to decide the best hymnals to sing? Are we missing the people because we’re arguing over the best program to reach them?
Our team will be traveling the next 3 months into Mexico, Costa Rica and Panama. These countries each present different challenges; but please pray specifically for open doors to schools and the local churches to be receptive to the Book of Hope ministry. Please also pray for me as I attempt to lead an intern team into the great unkown. I need God’s help daily for I know that I cannot do anything without Him.
I don’t write this with any malice or negative intentions. Only to help us all think about the people we are impacting and the lives we are commissioned to change. Be aware of the people around you, we really don’t know the impact a kind word or a listening ear can be.
Where is the church and how can we change? How can we be the refuge to the world we are meant to be?
A girl named Lyndsey in 22A would like to know.
8.21.2005
Laughter
I don’t really know when it happens along the day, but somewhere in between the fourth fifth or sixth presentation, the faces begin to be blurred by time and repetition. After you’ve been in front of thousands of students their stories, smiles, schools and uniforms all seem to mesh together to form an immense pull on your heart. A deep longing in your heart develops, a desire to be able to rescue all of them and save them from the loneliness and darkness that covers their lives. Somewhere along the day you can’t seem to get away from the realization that what you’re doing is most likely the only time in their lives when they can escape the reality in which they live.
We provide them with a short break from the day to day. We are there to rescue some and awaken others. The school assembly is our invitation to them, to leave their burdens for just a few moments.
Because those few moments are when their lives seem to be better, their father’s are home again to care for and love them, their mother’s don’t have to depend on their income of selling candy on the streets to tourists. They are not abused every morning before they leave to school and they’re not fearful of returning home that night. Those minutes when something in their hearts stirs and tells them that this is what they’ve been looking for. This message these Americans have brought brings hope where the failed relationships or the drugs and alcohol could not.
The assembly begins with some reservation, why have you come to my school? What are you going to expect from me? Soon the realization is made that there is truth in the message and the only thing the American’s expect or ask for is my attention. Then the laughter begins, things that are said or a funny face from one of the actors causes waves of it across the schoolyard.
The children’s laughter is heavy, but filled with a hidden joy. Filled with the sounds of stolen innocence being shaken off. Their laughter is full of the life that has been hidden and pressed down through their few years. The children are allowing themselves to be children. The children are allowing themselves to laugh if even just for a moment to relieve themselves of the real world they struggle to survive in. And the laughing feels good.
But then the stories continue and a message of hope is heard in it all. The opportunity to be able to understand the same joy these people have and the chance to live every day with the same peace that is present in this moment. Where and how can I find this?
As the presentation continues the anticipation builds, what is this book that you keep talking about? Who is this best friend that cares so much about you? Does he care about me as well? Tell me again that someone cares for me, that I can have a friend that will never leave me. Tell me again that someone knows my name and I have a purpose. Tell me again that everything is going to be ok. Tell me again that the things that happen to me aren’t my fault.
Everyday, in countless countries, in nameless cities and villages and counties God’s Word is being distributed to children who are hurting and searching for a message that will bring some sense of hope to their lives. Something that will bring even the smallest gleam of hope that things in life can be better.
And as I sit here writing these thoughts, the street is filled with that sound of children. I look out the window and see them running through the streets in their blue and white school uniforms with torches lit to mark a celebration of their schools anniversary. The same students that we will face in a few days are now running past my window hand in hand with each other. I hear them laughing and it brings back memories of the kids in the schools who’ve already received their books, whose lives’ have been altered. Yet in the same moment I am reminded that there are still many more.
We provide them with a short break from the day to day. We are there to rescue some and awaken others. The school assembly is our invitation to them, to leave their burdens for just a few moments.
Because those few moments are when their lives seem to be better, their father’s are home again to care for and love them, their mother’s don’t have to depend on their income of selling candy on the streets to tourists. They are not abused every morning before they leave to school and they’re not fearful of returning home that night. Those minutes when something in their hearts stirs and tells them that this is what they’ve been looking for. This message these Americans have brought brings hope where the failed relationships or the drugs and alcohol could not.
The assembly begins with some reservation, why have you come to my school? What are you going to expect from me? Soon the realization is made that there is truth in the message and the only thing the American’s expect or ask for is my attention. Then the laughter begins, things that are said or a funny face from one of the actors causes waves of it across the schoolyard.
The children’s laughter is heavy, but filled with a hidden joy. Filled with the sounds of stolen innocence being shaken off. Their laughter is full of the life that has been hidden and pressed down through their few years. The children are allowing themselves to be children. The children are allowing themselves to laugh if even just for a moment to relieve themselves of the real world they struggle to survive in. And the laughing feels good.
But then the stories continue and a message of hope is heard in it all. The opportunity to be able to understand the same joy these people have and the chance to live every day with the same peace that is present in this moment. Where and how can I find this?
As the presentation continues the anticipation builds, what is this book that you keep talking about? Who is this best friend that cares so much about you? Does he care about me as well? Tell me again that someone cares for me, that I can have a friend that will never leave me. Tell me again that someone knows my name and I have a purpose. Tell me again that everything is going to be ok. Tell me again that the things that happen to me aren’t my fault.
Everyday, in countless countries, in nameless cities and villages and counties God’s Word is being distributed to children who are hurting and searching for a message that will bring some sense of hope to their lives. Something that will bring even the smallest gleam of hope that things in life can be better.
And as I sit here writing these thoughts, the street is filled with that sound of children. I look out the window and see them running through the streets in their blue and white school uniforms with torches lit to mark a celebration of their schools anniversary. The same students that we will face in a few days are now running past my window hand in hand with each other. I hear them laughing and it brings back memories of the kids in the schools who’ve already received their books, whose lives’ have been altered. Yet in the same moment I am reminded that there are still many more.
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