Everyday for the past two weeks and continuing for two weeks more, our team has been teaching groups of fifteen pastors who are coming to Guayaquil from all over the coastal region of Ecuador. They are being introduced to our COSECHA (Harvest) discipleship/church planting training materials that will be used to reach the goal of 1-million disciples in one year.

The heart of the training is making disciples. The only way to win/disciple a million in a year is to begin making disciples that make disciples. Nothing new. But are we doing it? Am I doing it?

If we are out there everyday exhorting everyone about the priority of making disciples, who am I discipling? My biggest fear everyday in the trainings is that someone will bluntly ask me who I am discipling!

These strong soul-searching words hit home. We solicit funds saying that we are going to reach the lost, and yet, as we look at our schedules, our calendars are full of spiritual retreats and Bible conferences. Our to-do lists include research for Bible school classes and fund raising for church projects, but discipleship, defined as reaching and training followers of Christ, seems surprisingly absent. If we were to truly provide evidence of meeting our goals of reaching the lost based on our professional activities, it is highly possible that we’d come up short.

But why? God forbid that we would have intentionally mislead churches into thinking that we were doing something that we are not. I think that we hit the ground intending to see lost people saved and an impact made in the community where we live. So what keeps us from being able to see the results that we so desire?

One reason I believe that this happens is because of our dependence on the local church as we get our “feet on the ground” in ministry. As we arrive in the community where we minister, we look for people to help us establish our lives in the foreign context. We need everything from furniture to handymen to help us to get started and build a secure environment for our families and a base from which we can work. Being representatives of a religious organization, more often than not we find that help coming from Christians.

This in itself is not a bad thing of course. There are few things more assuring to a man or woman who is dealing with his or her second complete move in a year to two separate and absolutely foreign environments than to be able to delegate important tasks to another believer who will treat him or her honestly and amicably as the missionary stumbles through cultural adaptation and adjustment. However, the downside to all of this is that we begin our experience in that new culture by building a cloistered environment for ourselves that keeps us from relating with neighbors who do not have a relationship with Christ and may be seeking the message that we came to share.

Further complicating the matter is the fact that these Christians generally introduce us to other Christians who then invite us to address any number of groups and participate in any number of events generally frequented by other Christians. Before we know it, we are deeply entrenched in a Christian culture and, although busy, have severely hindered ourselves from having a real first-hand impact on the predominantly non-Christian world that we live in.

Now don’t get me wrong, I believe that those of us who serve a predominantly Christian audience, doing leadership training and pastoral conferences, do a great deal of good. Nevertheless, there is a question that haunts me: Does my professional schedule exempt me from fulfilling the Great Commission?

Another often repeated concept is that most of what is learned, that is what is transferred and actually applied to a person’s life comes through the teacher’s ability to model what he or she is communicating. In other words, that which is learned is more often caught than taught. This serves as well to make the reality all the more convincing, we as missionaries can’t just train disciplers we have to be disciplers ourselves.

But how? How can we who have been caught up in the busyness of the ministry refocus our lives in order to prioritize discipleship ministry? I have a few ideas:

1. Don’t stop preaching discipleship. Our continued involvement and reflection on the theme will continue to motivate us to “practice what we preach.” It will also enable us to explain our inability to fulfill expectations that others may try to place upon us that do not enable disciple-making ministry to take place
2. Expand our circle of influence intentionally to include non-Christians. This requires an honest look at our lives in order intentionally create relationships with those who do not know Christ. Are we truly like our Master who was known as a friend of sinners?
3. Look for opportunities everywhere. Discipleship opportunities can take place over a play-date with the kids or a late night greeting across the street. But we need to look out for them, recognize them for what they are, and utilize them to bring seekers closer to a relationship with their God.
4. Be in constant prayer. When I prepare for a meeting or a teaching, I can control the elements. I pick the theme, the illustrations, and the length of time that I am going to speak. As a discipler, I don’t have these luxuries. I have to rely on the Holy Spirit for direction and clear insight into the matter at hand. Hearing his voice is only enabled as I practice acknowledging his presence in every moment.

These things are coming to pass in our lives as we have evaluated our ministry and daily life here in Mérida. I’m happy to report that we can count many non-Christians now as our friends. Pray for us as we engage ourselves in their their lives and adjust our schedules to keep discipleship a true focus of our ministry.

Many thanks to all who were instrumental in prayer during this trying week. Kelly and I were both down dealing with different sicknesses. Hers was an amoebic infection while I was flat on my back for many days as the doctors tried to determine which antibiotic was going to vanquish my dreaded nemesis, the sinus infection. We are both back on our feet again, the blessed recipients of the care and concern, (thanks Kazims), prayers (thanks especially to Carlos who called and prayed with me), and the understanding of 3 wonderful kids (thanks Rebekah, Joseph and Jonathan.)

During my convalescence, I had little to do save read, and read I did, voluminously. My most profound experience came through the words of Philip Yancey in his book “The Jesus I Never Knew.” It is an excellent work on the Jesus that came near, analyzing his personhood, teachings, miracles, and legacy.

A concept in this book spoke to me as I lay there waiting for my body to respond to treatment, waiting for my healing to come. There were moments of despair, frustration and to be sure pain. I was “in-between.” I had been given what I had needed in order to heal. I had the promise of health from the doctor, I just needed to wait. However, as the moments stretched to hours and the hours to days, the waiting was difficult, tedious, dreadful. I was tired of the delay.

We who hope for redemption are in this state of “in betweenness,” the time between Christ’s ascension and His return. Yancey says it is a sort of Saturday. He states that both the other two days, Good Friday and Easter Sunday have names on the Church calendar. But we who live in this time live on Saturday, the day with no name, the time between the promise and the fulfillment, and to be sure we fret, and become frustrated, and we despair. All around us are the signs of the decay of this world–sickness, corruption, poverty. Even our own bodies remind us that, despite our struggle to overcome, we’re made of the stuff of this earth. Yancey explains:

What the disciples experience in a small scale–three days in grief over a man who died on the cross–we now live on a cosmic scale. Human history grinds on, between the time of promise and fulfillment. Can we trust that God can make something holy out of a world that includes Bosnia and Rwanda, and inner-city ghettos and jammed prisons in the richest nation on earth?

And I ask myself: can I trust that God can make something holy out of my setbacks, my failures, and even my infections?

It’s Saturday on planet earth; will Sunday ever come?

Yet in the same way that three days of grief came to an end that Easter morning now over 2000 years ago. Our promise too will be realized because:

Easter opened up a crack in the universe winding down toward entropy and decay, sealing the promise that someday God will enlarge the miracle of Easter to a cosmic scale.

My waiting of sickness is over. My body has responded, I’m recovering, and thankfully, so is Kelly. Still, in the meantime we wait; we wait for all to be set in order, we wait for our final redemption while we hold out hope to a world increasingly reluctant to respond. But we know, despite what Paul calls our light and momentary troubles, our waiting is not in vain. Our King will come!

Photo by jaqian

Even after a year and a half here in Mérida, God still finds ways of stretching us. In January, while chatting with pastors before a sectional meeting, our president asked if I played an instrument. I responded that every now and again I played the guitar, while I had considerable experience on the drums. He followed up that question with a request that I lead worship that meeting. Now, I had lead worship in the past, but always in English. (I think the number of choruses that I know on the guitar in Spanish could be counted on one hand.) Therefore, I did what any self-respecting perfectionist would–I put him off, until the next month.

I used that time to gather the some more choruses, practice, and pray. (It’s amazing how the weeks fly when you’re anticipating something like this.) Of course, I second guessed my decision. I almost breathed a sigh of relief when I thought that perhaps the meeting had been canceled for the month, but, regardless of my doubts, the event came. The end result this last Monday certainly wasn’t perfect, but it was a beginning. I was able to sing (staying on key for the majority of the service), play the guitar, and I actually felt that I had led others in worship.

When I began my Spanish classes, I looked forward to the day when I would be able to do this very thing, but for one reason or another, I had put it off. Not enough time, other responsibilities more pressing, the list could go on. Isn’t it great that God doesn’t forget those dreams? In fact, I’ve found He sometimes uses others to push us into realizing them.

“Leave if you can!” That is the translated name of Salsipuedes one of the two towns that we visited on our medical relief trip to Tabasco. The village of Salsipuedes is situated on the Grijalva River in the Centla of Tabasco, a wetlands region of the state that’s three hours from the capital, one hour on good roads and two on what many would consider “off-road conditions,” but even more overwhelming than the distance to reach this place was the need that we met when we arrived. Sandy Kazim, the organizer and one of the medical providers of the trip told us that for much of the time she felt as though she was running an ER instead of a medical clinic. Four children in the same home with bronchitis and a woman who had recently miscarried were some of the most difficult cases, but case after case of skin infection and other diseases kept the medical providers working long past sunset, the time that we were told we had to leave for the sake of our personal security. Equally as tragic was the spiritual condition of the site. There were reports of active witchcraft taking place and a general look of hopelessness on the faces of many. “Leave if you can” –the name seemed to fit.

Still, that’s the funny thing about the God that we serve. Of all of the needy places that we could have gone, He sent us to the town of Salsipuedes. I think perhaps it was because, even though others had given up on that “Godforsaken” place, He hadn’t. He sent us there as an extension of His love in a tangible way.

I had the chance to enter into homes with several of the students of the Bible Institute while the medical team treated the sick. And as we passed from house to house, entering into their world, I thought of what Christ did for each one of us. He left His glory to live among us, to experience what we experience and to give us the hope that comes from a relationship with God. We in turn were serving as his representatives, offering the same hope that we now enjoy in a place where hope seemed for many to be a distant memory.

I spoke to many and told them that, although they might not have expected it, God had sent us to them specifically to let them know that He had decided to stay in Salsipuedes and that he was looking for hearts in which he could live. We prayed with many as they wrestled to take those first steps toward a relationship with their Creator.

What will happen is hard to determine. The routine of the life poverty has a grip that is relentless. C.S. Lewis once said it this way:

Indeed, if we consider the unblushing promises of reward and the staggering nature of the rewards promised in the Gospels, it would seem that Our Lord finds our desires, not too strong, but too weak. We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea. We are far too easily pleased.

So is the work in Salsipuedes; the population is run down, too tired to hope, too tired to dream of something better, and perhaps easily placated with the counterfeits that false religions or momentary escapes like drugs and alcohol can provide. Still, I believe that something began in the heart of those that we touched on that Friday. They received a taste of the love of God, and I believe that through the persistence of the pastor and the congregation that is serving that town, together with the regenerative power of the Holy Spirit, the very character of that town can change. In fact, I’m looking forward to the day when they invite us to the official name changing ceremony.

Entering the city, we found that life had returned to its hectic pace with people and cars everywhere. The only visible remains of the inundation was the construction taking place to repair and clean roads affected by the floodwaters. Still, the stories we heard were incredible. People told us that many had remained in their homes, thinking this to be just a routine occurrence during the Tabasco rainy season, but that, as the floodwaters rose, they found themselves waiting on rooftops for helicopter rescue. The pastor’s home where we stayed took on more than 5 feet of water. He and his family stayed in the upper level and were able to save the majority of their appliances and furniture, but mold on the walls and ruined tile floors spoke of the work ahead to restore what the flood had ruined.

The countryside surrounding the city was a different story as floodwater remained on the roads and in the low lying areas that surrounded the houses. While no longer threating homes and schools, the stagnant water poses a health threat especially to the small children who choose to play in the contaminated pools and through mosquito borne illnesses. This is where we focused our efforts.

Entering Tabasco on Thursday night, we pooled together with Pastor Ruben, his family and several members of the church to put together relief packages with food, vitamins, diapers, milk and other essentials for the residents of these needy areas. It was touching to see the desire of these people, who were themselves victims, giving of their time and effort to help those who had needs greater than their own.

The following day, we handed out the supplies and toys to the children and their parents. It was for them clearly a “big deal” as at one point we were accompanied by one of their local government representatives. We were given complete access, even the ability to interrupt the activities of a elementary school to meet with the students.

Food was distributed, toys were given away, and much needed supplies were handed out, but something much bigger was accomplished. These victims received a much needed infusion of hope. They received it realizing that they were not alone in their struggle.

There is something amazing in the fact that God touches people to go and share his love with those who most need to experience it. At one point in the distribution, Paul Kazim, a fellow missionary, prayed. I think it was then that the reality of what we were doing came into focus: Jesus ministered to the people in Mark 6:30-44. He did that even though he was experiencing the loss of his cousin and herald, John the Baptist. He did it because he had compassion. In Tabasco, fellow citizens were putting their lives on hold, lives that had themselves been completely changed by the floods, to reach out to those with greater needs. What was the reason? I believe it to be nothing less than the same compassion that Christ portrayed to the 5,000 that were fed in the Galilean countryside.

We’re planning to go back to Tabasco January 10-13 to provide medical treatment and spiritual counseling to the needy suffering in Tabasco, to the people now being overlooked as efforts are being made to restore a sense of normalcy in the region. We as missionaries will take part, but I think the most effective counselors will be those who have lived through these floods. Those who, because of the compassion that only God can provide, have thought of others as better than themselves.

(You can see more of our recent trip by clicking on the picture above or through this link.)

Yes, the Yankees lost again. This time manhandled by the Cleveland Indians, a club who just last year wasn’t even sniffing the post season. This of course has had me spending some time looking for ways to deal with another October sans Yankees. You can imagine my surprise when an email from my mother-in-law helped me to put things into perspective.

An avid student of Jewish culture, she came upon a video blog from aish.com titled Isn’t losing wonderful?. In it Rabbi Yaakov Salomon comments on the loss of our beloved Yankees (and the Mets for good measure), suggesting that while “victory teaches you nothing”, “losing can teaching you everything.” He goes on exposit Proverbs 24:16:

for though a righteous man falls seven times, he rises again, but the wicked are brought down by calamity

He states that Jewish interpreters of this proverb suggest that it is not in spite of the fact that the righteous man falls seven times but it is because of the fact that he falls, and the lessons that he learns in the failures, that he rises again.

I think many of us are examples of this interpretation. I know that I, for one, rarely reflect on my victories, but the pain of failure that the sense of loss that follows drive me to determine the source of my defeat and resolve to come back stronger the next time.

So encouragement can be found in the lesson of losing. Of course, now that the Yankees have fallen seven times, I fully expect victory in 2008!

1. Day of the Dead–Written as a response to a request of an friend, this post is by far our most popular post of the past year, and, with the celebration of this event less than a month away the hits are building again. This piece reveals the difficulty that we have as we try to understand the culture of the Yucatán and their ancient traditions.

2. Oh the Humanity!–is a piece I wrote about how God uses our humanness, something very evident to me as I suffered through a prolonged sinus infection, to reveal his perfect power.

3. Like riding a bicycle–is a family update/reflection on what it is that we do as missionaries. By the way, mastery of the bicycle is something that our kids are still working on. Come to think of it, we’ve still got a lot to learn about missions as well.

4. Topes–Life has a way of springing surprises on you, much like speed bumps that seem to appear when you least expect them on roads here in Mexico, but, as this post suggests, the jolts bring with them valuable learning experiences.

5. Coincidence or Confirmation?–This post about our providential guidance on the way to Mérida generated some lively if not completely related discussion.

As I look through these posts, one thing becomes increasingly clear. The job that we have been called to is not an easy one, but the God that has called us continues to guide and form us so that we can accomplish His work.

Here in Mérida, poverty is a need that demands to be met. The poor stand in doorways and wander the streets looking for those who will help them out of their situation. Even those that do work are trying to make ends meet on $5 US each day, and unlike the tourists in the picture above, we can’t leave their need behind when we return to our hotel or board our plane.

After my run in with the Ronald, the con-artist that took us for $8 in Costa Rica, I searched for a way to avoid the needs. I believed that a policy would help protect me, or maybe I would be able to direct people to ministries that could lend them a hand in their situation. Still, the need kept nagging.

Reading the Bible didn’t help either. Jesus, when confronted by the clamoring masses, would usually reply, “What is it that you want me to do for you?” He had no policies, no list of places to which he could direct them and wash his hands of their problems. He was personally involved–feeding, healing, touching.

Today, I was on a search for some items to get our house finally set up. Taking the wrong way to get to Home Depot, I stopped at a local hardware store. In the parking lot, there stood Raul, a disabled, middle-aged man, who, along with his wife, had been looking for garden work so that he could pay for his kids’ school supplies and uniforms. He asked me if I could help him. My schedule was free, but my impulse was to say that I couldn’t. After all, I had just cut my lawn the day before, and my ministry is equipping not compassion. Still, his need was clamoring for attention, and the example of Jesus from my devotionals was fresh in my mind. “What do you want me to do for you?” I asked.

I decided to get personally involved. I talked to him and called one of the references that he had given me. Then I spent the next 30 minutes praying and driving them to the places that they needed to go. As we said good-bye I gave him about $20 towards the uniforms and some dry goods that we had been carrying in the car so that his family would have food to eat. He gave me his address and an invitation to visit him.

Did I do the best thing? It’s hard to tell. I would rather have taken him to buy the shoes and uniforms that he needed, but at that moment I couldn’t. So perhaps I settled, or perhaps I was used as one response to the prayers of a desperate couple with a need that wasn’t going away.

Photo Credits: “Left Behind” a photo taken by gerriet available at: http://www.flickr.com/photo_zoom.gne?id=43491111&size=l and used under a Creative Commons License

As I am writing this update, Hurricane Dean is now bearing down on Jamaica, and all of the projections place its trajectory directly across the Yucatan Peninsula and the city of Mérida. The entire state of Yucatan is under yellow alert meaning that preparation on everyone’s mind as shoppers filled the supermarkets stocking up on canned food, water, and medicine.

Here in our new home as well we are preparing–determining areas of safety, and trying to make our plans, but even as we plan, we are faced with a mountain of uncertainty and where there is uncertainty, not far behind we find fear.

In all of this I am reminded of that tumultuous voyage of Jesus’ disciples across the Sea of Galilee in Mark chapter 4. There there were being tossed about, grown, sea-hardened fishermen uncertain if they would live or die. As they woke Jesus, who had been sleeping on a cushion, they wondered aloud if he even cared about them. In their fear, they’d failed to recognize that he was the one who had ordered them to set sail in the first place. The storm, more than the setting of a miracle, was their opportunity to recognize that, even though they went through the valley of the shadow of death, they had nothing to fear because with them was their shepherd.

Pray for us friends. Pray for our safety and for the safety of friends in harm’s way. Pray too though that we won’t fail to recognize the presence of our Good Shepherd as we wait here in the gaze of Hurricane Dean.

ISUM is known by it’s grueling schedule and intense homework. The deadlines seemed to stack on top of each other as we prepared for 5 class periods each evening. Exhaustion was our common enemy as we fought back sleep in order to complete all of our tasks. Still, the struggle had a comfortableness about it. Being a to-do list writer, I found great satisfaction in marking off each assignment as I completed it, and although I routinely hit the pillow around 1:00 or 2:00 AM I did so with a feeling of accomplishment.

The return to normalcy, although less demanding on the schedule, didn’t come with the neat guidelines. A team to receive in late July, finding a house to move into by the middle of July, a youth retreat in August and the accumulation of work needing my attention while I was in ISUM each bring conflicting priorities and a collective clamoring for attention. There are no convenient class plans to follow and no instant feedback in the form of quizzes and tests along the way. These realities pose a problem for my order hungry mentality.

I would say that this may be the life that we all lead. We shout for independence as a youth, but we long for the simplicity of our childhood as adults. We have arrived at the place where we are free to determine our lives but we tire of the responsibilities, the leadership, and the need to hold everything together, and we long for someone to just tell us what to do.

And yet, this is our situation in our walk with the Lord. We face difficult decisions daily. We pray with fervency for direction, but rarely does the answer come in the form of a carefully worded class syllabus or a turn-by-turn Google Map. It’s then that we need to apply the knowledge that we’ve learned in the School of the Spirit of God’s Word, when we need to move from the parable to the person on the street, and that is where we most often fail.

The disciples coming off of a successful tour of ministry, casting out demons and healing the sick, failed the test of the Lord when facing the need of the multitude. “You give them something to eat,” he said. They reached for their calculators instead of their faith. Lk. 9:13

So is our daily struggle, rarely hectic to the point of the exhaustion of ISUM, but rarely as neat and tidy as the daily plan of activities that we received for each class. Still I’m glad we serve a patient Lord. Jesus did come through for the disciples. And, as we continue in our daily training, being formed into more into the image of our Master, I’m glad to know that our rate of success increases.