Always, continually, no matter what.

"Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." ~ 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18.

I’m still alive…I promise.  As we say in Costa Rica, “perdón” for taking so long to post again!

Since I last posted, I spent my last days in Panamá with a group of Texans, and what an interesting experience that was!  It was so neat (and exhausting) being on the host-end of a mission team.  I met so many wonderful new people, and it was so encouraging to see the way they pulled their own unique gifts together to serve the community of El Valle and its neighbors.

 As my time in Panamá came to end, I was incredibly challenged to rejoice in the Lord regardless of my circumstances!  (That’s a fancy way of saying: I didn’t want to leave, but I had to, so I praised God anyways.)

I then embarked on definitely the most adventurous 30 hours of my life.  I traveled by bus from El Valle to Panama City, and then from the city to San José, Costa Rica.  I literally walked across the Panamá-Costa Rica border, and I took a taxi all the way to my host home midday on Saturday.  Within a few hours, a friendly face (more commonly referred to as Keith Slayden) arrived, and what an exciting time we are having here!

On our first full day, we visited Volcán Poás, but I forgot my camera at the home!  (Note to self: remember your camera.)  Today, we had our first day of classes, wandered through the mall, and safely took the bus home (for the first time by ourselves).  Here is part of our group in the Heredia town square.  We get to spend 6 weeks with some awesome individuals!  I look forward to getting to know them better.

 We have also been so blessed by a wonderful host family (and we sure are eating well!), and we are in great hands here in Costa Rica.  The hardest part has been adjusting from life in Panamá to life here.  Geographically, both are incredibly different, and even the people are different, but primarily, it’s been shifting from organized missions work to doing life here as a student as a missionary.  Honestly, I don’t have much wisdom to share with this challenge…I can only anticipate improvement with time.

I do know that as Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, no matter what is going on, I must be joyful, pray and thank the Lord.  Whether I’m soaking up creation, laughing with my host mom or studying with another student, God asks for my attention.  And I encourage you to ask God to show you how to live that way.  Maybe He’ll show you someone who is living this out already.

Beg that he would give you opportunities to show joy, the energy to pray without ceasing, and the humility to thank Him for everything…always.  I’m already praying it for you.  Good luck!

Feliz Día del Padre

So much is happening, I just wish someone would follow me around a make a documentary of my life…I’m not sure who would watch it, but if you’re reading this entry, I guess you’ve been a pretty supportive friend thus far.  Since I last posted, too many things have happened, but the main great thing was this past Friday night: the first ever “lock-in” for the youth group.  But sorry, girls, this one was Man’s Night.  (This picture is not from Man's Night, obviously, but it shows you some of the guys that were there...)

We definitely played games, ate food and watched The Blindside (heads up: Sandra Bullock’s southern draw doesn’t cross languages).  But the highlights for me were the devotionals we had.  We studied the Beatitudes that night, and for these boys, it was the first time they’d ever heard of them.

Emmanuel (one of the young leaders in the church here), two other American guys who visited us this week, and I each took 2 verses and led discussions on them.

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called sons of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

                ~ Matthew 5:3-10

We discussed how these verses aren’t instructions or rules for us, but rather Jesus simply describing what a holy person looks like.  And it was then I realized that while these seven boys have never really studied these eight verses, they can live them.

They understand poverty because they live in it.  They are some of the most humble and loving boys I’ve ever met.  They crave righteousness because they know what it’s like to go hungry.  They want to be peaceful because being called a son of God is the greatest promise they’ve ever heard.

You see, some of these boys have never met their fathers.  Three brothers know their dad, but he more or less comes home often enough to get their mom pregnant.  Some do have adad at home, but they’re not biologically related.

For everyone, Father’s Day can mean something completely different, but in a place like Panamá (where they, too, celebrated Father’s Day today), it can seem downright meaningless—but not to these boys.   They have a Father.  And they have a church family with many dads who step up and treat these boys as their own.  So for today, they wrote them all notes, thanking them for being their “dads.”

Just like so many down here, I didn’t see my dad this Father’s Day either.  But I am lucky enough to know mine and be his son.  Happy Father’s Day, Dad, and to all of you dads!  And to each of you reading this blog, rejoice in our heavenly Father!  He is longing to be with you.

He is present!

“The Lord said, ‘Go out and stand on the mountain in the presence of the Lord, for the Lord is about to pass by.’  Then a great and powerful wind tore the mountains apart and shattered the rocks before the Lord, but the Lord was not in the wind.  After the wind there was an earthquake, but the Lord was not in the earthquake.  After the earthquake came a fire, but the Lord was not in the fire.  And after the fire came a gentle whisper.  When Elijah heard it, he pulled his cloak over his face and went out and stood at the mouth of the cave.” – 1 Kings 19:11-13

We have a lot going on here in Panamá; there’s not a lot of resting to do.  Last night, a friend came over to cook us an authentic Panamanian dinner!  Tonight, all the teenage boys in the church are coming over for a lock-in.  Tomorrow, a group from a church in Texas is arriving for a week, and then on Sunday, we’ll have church and start a week full of projects and activities for the community here in El Valle all over again.

Just like at home in the States, it is so easy to get preoccupied with the next big thing happening.  There is always something to be doing and preparing for.  Tomorrow can always take our attention away.

When you come on a week-long trip, you are working constantly.  You are always doing something, but then after some time, it comes to an end and you go home.  When you live in a foreign country as a career missionary (or whatever you want to call them), you are constantly preparing for the next group, the next project, the next Bible study, or whatever comes next—just like a pastor at a church would anywhere.

But God doesn’t always come in the big things, and frankly, if we only live for the major events in life, we will miss the comfort of the Lord in the little moments.

Yes, God is present in the church services, bible studies and short-term mission trips, but he is also present (and maybe more so) in the simple conversations, personal quiet times, and general tasks that make up a normal day.  I cannot miss the gentle whisper for the earthquakes and fires.  He is present; I must simply be with Him.

1 Samuel 3:10.

This morning, an older lady with her grown-up daughter and four of her granddaughters arrived to worship with us.  Crecencia and her family had never come on a Sunday morning, but they do know this church family well.  A group from my home church completed a lot of work for her earlier this year, and she has become very special to the hearts of so many.  When I come to meet people like Crecencia, I feel as though the Gospel becomes more real—like I didn’t really understand it before.

During my time with the teenagers this morning, we studied 1 Samuel 3 and discussed how to communicate with God.  At the end, I asked them how they would like to be praying for each other.  One 17-year old simply asked for food.

About 23 kilometers down the mountains, there is a small town with a severely broken church.  Recently the preacher (who has since then left) started calling every individual person out by their sins, explaining to them that they could not take communion until those specific faults were fixed.  Some have said they will never go back to any church ever again.

As I’ve already mentioned, there’s a lady here of Chinese descent, whose husband had to pay a lofty sum to marry her.  She said the two sets of parents argued over a fair price because, according to her family, she was worth a lot—according to his, not so much.

Antonio needs food, some lost believers need to be found, and one woman needs to know that she is invaluable, that her Father bought her already, and that He paid for her with His life.

As we do life with the people here in El Valle, they understand the Good News.  Unlike Michael Yaconelli’s description of modern-day American believers, here the Gospel is actually life-changing, not merely life-enhancing.

This morning, Crecencia walked with her family for two hours through the mountains in order to get to the nearest church-goers’ home on time, who then drove them the rest of the way.  They didn’t have the necessary few dollars for a bus ride, and they had no food money for today.  But they walked.  And they walked.

Do I hunger and thirst for righteousness so much that I would cross mountains just to meet with a community of believers?   Do my words to God mimic those of Samuel’s in the aforementioned story?  I pray one day, like Samuel, I never stop saying to God: “Speak, for your servant is listening.”

Always more--so, do it!

Tomorrow (Friday), several of us are visiting the Emberá Purú village again to introduce some new people.  While there, we are planning on telling the story of the Good Samaritan to the 30-or-so children that live there.  A classic story, of course—one that we know from our earliest Sunday School days—but, like everything in the bible, never quite loses its applicability.

 Here in Panamá, I have met so many people.  They all know me—the young, new gringo in town (there are many stories here, by the way, so we’ll just stop there).  But every time I meet someone knew, I encounter more poverty than the last person I met.  I wrote of the Chinese lady and the young mother in my last post, but those hardly cover the spectrum.

 In El Valle, drunks lay in the streets, children offer tours for tips, and everyone has a tangible need.  Today, we visited a family for whom a group just built a new house.  In the old house, the baby was sleeping in a shoe box, her skin covered in roaches.  Now, not a roach can be found in the new home!  Last night, an American friend here was talking about his grandson who was adopted from Russia.  He was 17-months old when they adopted him, and he weighed 17 pounds.  (Sorry for the jump across the Pacific Ocean, but it gets my point across the same.)

 There is so much needed in this world.   There is so much to do in this world.

 We can always accuse the people before us for our inherited messes, but we must then do something about the mess.  If we hesitate, come tomorrow, we are to blame.

 When I’m hearing these stories, I want to do so much, but I feel so powerless!  I want to sober up the borrachos (drunks) and give every child I see a $10 tip just for being precious!  I want to find every child around the world a home, even if it has to be my own.  Then I remember how expensive adoption is, and that I’m a single, 20-year old guy with no steady income.

 There’s almost always that moment when I realize I simply cannot do what I wish I could do.

 And I’m sure that the Good Samaritan could have stopped there, too.  No, I’m not adopting a small child in the near future, but I can do more than what I’m doing now.  How I’ll do that tomorrow, I’m not sure.  But I can only imagine the opportunities I will have, and by God’s grace, I need not falter.

I found internet!

It seems anymore, when I sit down to share my thoughts on paper, writer’s block is inevitable.  Although, this time, it might be because I’ve just done so much since I last posted an entry here.  (Whoops!) 

I arrived in El Valle, the town where I’m spending the majority of my three weeks in Panamá.  It is an eclectic, decently-sized community which sits in the crater of a volcano a few hours outside of Panama City.  In hindsight, it makes perfect sense that internet here would be incredibly limited.  So, that’s why I will not be updating this blog as frequently as expected.  But fear not, you should hear from me every couple of days. 

This Sunday I experienced perhaps the simplest, most intimate Sunday morning “church service” one has ever seen.  The church meets under a pavilion in the Carters’ backyard, and this week, we chose to sit in a circle, like a family around the dinner table. 

Since then, we visited a 19-year old girl, raising a one-year, three-month old baby, as her 25-year old husband dies of kidney failure.  She showed us her home (a concrete room) and the family’s entire property.  Yesterday, we had a bible study with a Chinese Panamanian woman, married to a verbally-abusive man.  She told us all about being sold into marriage and of her one-year old child, being raised in China with the baby’s grandmother. 

Lisa told me that someone once said to her, “People won’t care what you know until they know that you care.” 

Once one knows truth, he has an incredible responsibility to share it.  But he cannot do that until he has an audience.  Today, I went on a hike with a bunch of teenage boys.  We simply spent six hours together hiking and swimming (and judging by the humidity and elevation, I’d say we did about 45 U.S. miles). 

I have a lot I want to say to those boys, but nothing can be said until they know that I care about them.  There is much to be done here in Panamá, and it all flows from spreading the love of Christ here.  As always, thanks for the prayers and encouragement!  Tonight, we’re having a bible study, and the next few days involve a lot of traveling.  Until then, take comfort in the fact that the Lord is working here, and the church is more than healthy!

No rest for...well, anyone

I had forgotten how the Panama City airport terminal feels and smells like the beach.  After a long day of traveling, it was so nice.

My flight into the country was about 40 minutes late, so I was very excited to leave the baggage claim, finding David and Lisa standing there.  We settled into our hostel for the weekend, a place run by missionaries for missionaries.  It is such a nice place!  (And I have bunk beds all to myself, though it’s really not as fun as it sounds…)

Already yesterday, though, I was reminded of the Lord’s blessings—and His power.

On my flight from Lexington to Atlanta, I had the scariest 60 seconds of my life.  We hit some unexpected turbulence, and slowly everyone started paying more attention.  After what seemed like several minutes (but in reality, a few seconds), I grabbed my drink and held it over the aisle.  Then, we dropped.

Our plane fell so fast and yet only for a second.  It was, however, long and hard enough for everything loose in the cabin to go flying.  Drinks bounced off of the ceiling and soaked everyone.  (Add that to the list of why water is always the best choice.)

But for a few moments, my prevailing thought was, I haven’t even gotten to Panamá yet!  I felt that had something tragic happened, this journey would have been pointless.  My plans involved making it here safely, serving for several weeks and then making it home.  But my plans are useless.  I was reminded that a life lived by putting God’s will first will not be in vain (check out yesterday’s devotional in Oswald Chamber’s My Utmost for His Highest for an ironic relation to the day’s events).

The moral of that story: every time I try to take control, everything just gets messed up.

Today, however, was quite a different day.  We traveled by boat for two hours up a drying, shallow river to visit the Emberá Purú village.  We spent the day talking to the natives, shopping through their “market” and playing with all the kids.  I found some 6 to 11 year olds that are beasts at soccer, but I’d like to say I held my own.

On our journey back, the native guiding our boat gently slammed us into the shore, and insisted on being baptized.  I’ve never seen someone so enthusiastic about being saved.  His urgency was invigorating, and it made me that much more excited that we all have a new brother!  Praise the Lord!