Family

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Although the temperatures don’t seem to recognize it, as we turn to the last page on the calendar, we welcome the winter months here in the Yucatán! With the change in season comes the opportunity to inform you on all that’s been going on in this last ministry quarter.

Click on the image, or hit the link and you’ll get in on all of the action with:

  • A reflection on our last decade of Christmases.
  • A report of the fruit of our church planting program,
  • And updates from our family as we move into the new season.

Remember, our newsletter in PDF format viewable in Adobe Reader. If you don’t have Adobe Reader installed, you can download it free here:

http://get.adobe.com/reader/otherversions/

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I’m sitting here writing beginning to write these thoughts on Giving Tuesday, the day that we are reminded that it is more blessed to give than to receive. Still, as I look at my inbox, I see only four messages related to Giving Tuesday, while Black Friday and Cyber Monday offers are there by the dozen, and those are the ones left over after my first attempt to clear them away.

The first question I ask is, “How did I get signed up for so much junk mail?” but then I get a bit more philosophical about the situation. What is it that these companies know about us that causes them to bombard us with dozens of ways to accumulate more? Why does Thanksgiving seem more like the perfunctory calm before the storm of capitalist activity that is Black Friday instead of a day to truly celebrate all of the blessings that money can’t buy?

In the last session of our CHE vision seminar, we uncovered a few clues. As we talked about worldview, or the grid through which all of us interpret reality, we uncovered the fact that there are lies, or false building blocks, that can weaken a community and hinder its growth.

As we talked within the group, we began to see the effects of the idea of individualism, or the celebration of individual freedom over and above the well-being of the group. As we teased out the thought that personal happiness had become for many the ultimate goal, we found it to be quite a weighty anchor that slows the progress that we try to make in any community no matter how small.

The effects of prioritizing personal happiness could be seen in all sorts of evils from petty theft to marital infidelity. Besides, what couldn’t be justified if we have convinced ourselves that we’re only taking what we deserve?

The problem is that, over time, these cracks of justification weaken the foundation of trust established in the group. These fissures, then, if left unchecked, lead to the group’s ultimate demise. The testimony to this fact can be seen in any number of broken homes, ruined churches, or fractured communities.

So why is it that we find so many offers choking our inboxes at the start of this Christmas season? Perhaps it’s because we’ve failed to recognize the fact that we’ve been building with some false building blocks in our own lives. Perhaps we’ve fallen prey to the lie that inflates the importance of our personal happiness, telling us that each purchase we make, and each desire we satisfy, will move us closer to that goal. Or perhaps, as my wife says, we’ve simply not taken the time to unsubscribe ourselves from junk email lists.

Whatever the case, during this season of giving, let’s try to set aside some of those false building blocks we’re tempted to reach for. Let’s strengthen our communities with quality materials that carry an eternal guarantee. Let’s build one another up with the faith, hope, and love that Christ embodied on this earth and offers to all who would follow Him today.

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This Christmas season, we were able to return to the US to spend time with the family. Our days were full of visiting, catching up, eating (lots of eating), and just being together.

As we prepared to leave, Kelly’s mom asked what it was that we wanted to have for dinner. It was decided to prepare chicken and biscuits, a definite taste of home in then Yaple household. Still, while the meal was excellent, the preparation time is what really got me thinking. There was Kim, working into kitchen. Rebekah was there as well working alongside her, patting out biscuits onto a cookie sheet before baking. They were talking and laughing, pictures were being taken, memories shared. It was then that I was reminded that missionaries aren’t the only ones who make sacrifices.

How many moments in the kitchen has my mother-in-law missed because her granddaughter lived in a foreign country? How many meals has my Mom prepared for herself because her loved ones were far from home? We have are the ones who leave, but they are the ones who are left behind.

Nevertheless, we feel from our family nothing but support for what God is doing through us. I joked with a few Mexican friends as we were preparing for our trip that we were returning for the holidays because our parents had accused us of kidnapping their grandchildren, but nothing could be further from the truth. What happened to Jesus in Mark 3 (also in Matthew 12 and Luke 8 ) when Jesus’ mother and brothers had come to “collect” Jesus and take him home from his ministry has never been our concern. On the contrary, our parents have released us to the Lord, and pray constantly for the work that we are called to achieve. And even though my mom has wondered aloud on one occasion, “Why did He have to call you so far away?” Her sentiment was one of resignation preceded by, “When you were called by God to be a missionary, I gave you into His hands.”

And so, having returned to Mérida, reestablishing ourselves into our work and school schedules, I wanted to take time out to recognize the others who unselfishly gave so that we could be released to do what God has called us to do. Thanks Grandma G., Grandma Kim, Papa Dave, and all of the aunts and uncles (too numerous to type in a brief posting) for giving so that we could go. May God recognize and honor all that you have done, and bless you beyond measure because of it.

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As itinerating missionaries, we know travel. We’ve put over 40,000 miles on our car. We’ve stayed in homes and hotels. We’ve eaten in restaurants from Niagra Falls to the Gulf shores of Texas. But this last weekend, my boys and I experienced travel of a different kind: Royal Ranger Pow Wow 2010: Knights for Christ.

Pow Wow meant travel to Rocky Mount Royal Ranger Camp in central Missouri. It meant sleeping in tents, and eating in the open air. It meant BB guns, and tomahawk throwing, and non-stop action from early in the morning until late at night.

I took a few pictures of the event that I thought you might enjoy. Take a look, and relive with us a change of pace for this itinerating missionary family:


From Pow Wow 2010. Posted by David Godzwa on 6/18/2010 (10 items)

Generated by Facebook Photo Fetcher 2

Reading this via text email or RSS feed? Are the captions showing? If not, check out the pictures here:
http://www.disciplemexico.org/?p=1331

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FriedChickenWhile travel certainly has it’s downside, one of the benefits that we receive is the chance to reconnect with friends and family all across the U.S. One such chance came this last weekend when we spoke at Saint Robert First Assembly, where our friends, Joel and Amy Maxwell, attend.

Joel and Amy are friends from our college days, when, almost 15 years ago our paths crossed in the married housing at Evangel University, then Evangel College. We shared dinners, exchanged information on where to find the best grocery deals, and basically grew up together.

Later, Amy and I worked together at Evangel while I attended AGTS. She was on the cutting edge of “exciting web technology,” even then dabbling in blogging as she maintained the University’s web presence. It was during those days that we watched our kids come on the scene. Play dates in the park or at each other’s house was a frequent occurrence.

Not all of it was good times, Joel and Amy’s lives were dramatically affected by situation in which he nearly lost his ability to walk, having been run over on the job as a security guard at Evangel. We were glad to be of support, if even in a small way as they saw their business collapse in late 2005. Their story of perseverance through adversity, however, has been an inspiration to us. To see them now, Joel having recently completed a marathon on his reconstructed leg, and rising out of the teeth of financial disaster, makes us marvel at their determination and resilience. If that isn’t enough, Joel is now serving as an officer on active duty in the Army, while Amy is a Chaplain Candidate studying at AGTS. These are solid people.

This weekend was a real treat, then, when we were greeted by the smells of Joel’s famous recipe chicken-fried chicken, with mashed potatoes and gravy to boot! I was even allowed to take part in this masterpiece of a meal in the making, as the photo above proves. Later, the kids played downstairs while we caught up around the table accompanied as well by Judi Murphy, a Facebook friend we’ve finally had the chance to meet.

The next day we held services at their church, where Amy introduced us as family, and Pastor Gabe Falen graciously allowed us the opportunity to address both the Sunday school and share during the morning worship service. The largely military congregation responded, committing their prayer support and finances.

The reunion of course couldn’t last forever, we had services in the evening to attend, but we were appreciative of the fact that, sometimes, our travels as missionaries allow us to reconnect once more with friends like the Maxwells.

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How Big?

l11hermanos I remember our road trips to New York when I was young. We had a family of five, so there were three of us in the back of a Mazda GLC and lots of territorial fighting; “That’s my space you’re in!” we would cry, or “Why do I have to sit on the hump?” would be a frequent complaint. I vowed then and there that I would never have a family of five. Time, though, has a way of softening our youthful vows, and here I am the father of three in a family of five, a decent group by American standards and certainly when it comes to the limits of my patience.

What would I do with one more? Two? How about 8 more? I can’t event imagine. Yet LARGE families seem to be a standard, especially when we head outside of Mérida. The picture above can be translated, “The Store of the 11 Brothers.” Imagine the situations that a family of that size could get into! The kicker was what happened as I was trying to get the photo. One of my students, unimpressed, said, “I come from a family of 13 brothers and sisters.”

Speaking of heading out of Mérida, say a prayer for us this weekend as I lead a group of students from the Bible Institute for a two-day campaign in the city of Tekax (Teh-cash).

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The Godzwa Family Thanksgiving 2008

The Godzwa Family Thanksgiving 2008

Expressing our gratefulness from Mexico on Thanksgiving and throughout the Christmas Season.

Love,
Dave and Kelly
Rebekah, Joseph, and Jonathan

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IMG 1612Those of you who have read the works of J.R.R. Tolkien and recognize the style of the title of this post are possibly anticipating a story of magic and mystery or an epic struggle between good and evil. In that you may be a bit disappointed. This story is instead about the reality of missionary life. How, try like we may, we are unable to set aside one role for the sake of another. We are missionaries, but we are husbands and fathers first.

It all started on Saturday, November 9th, following a long night and an early morning of family activities. (Jonathan had just celebrated his 6th birthday, and had a basketball game the next day to boot.) I was set to embark on a 18 hour bus trip to the Mexican Assemblies of God General Council, a once every two years meeting of ministers, in Puebla. I boarded the bus at 10:00 and began an adventure that would span four days and about $30 in cell phone credit.

The first two days were fairly uneventful, a stop for seafood in Champotón, Campeche, a late night taco feast in Cardenas, Tabasco and then the push to reach Mexico City for a bit of a tour of Chapultapec Park and the Plaza Garibaldi, all expected preliminaries as we prepared to participate in what was shaping up to be a fairly important council. However, the excitement that was generating as we were arriving at Puebla was not related to the council issues at all.

“Hi. Hurt my foot. Icing it now,” read the message from Kelly at 11:00 AM Monday morning. The rhythm of the council had been broken, at least for me. I had tried to dedicate myself to the role of council participant, but the role of husband and father had turned my attention back to a different reality. Kelly had fallen bringing groceries in from the car. A false step on entering the house had left her with pain and a rapidly swelling foot.

Kelly was putting the best face on the situation, grabbing info from the Internet about how to treat the injury at home. I advised that she head to the hospital for an x-ray, but she was still hopeful that it was only a sprain. A few hours later, I sent another message asking how she was: “peor (worse),” read the reply. So, 18 hours apart, I sat praying and wondering, while Kelly picked up the kids and headed to the hospital for x-rays.

The x-rays were taken, and the diagnosis was a slight fracture of the left foot. A splint and complete rest for the foot was the prescription. Bravely, Kelly told me to stay in Puebla. I recommended that she call on a few friends to help with the chores around the house, something that was already in process. Still, the next 8 hours would change Kelly’s situation from difficult to near impossible.

A call at 5:00 am on Tuesday woke me up from my uneasy sleep. Jonathan had thrown up 2 times. Now, Kelly not only had to maintain a functioning family, she had to attend to a sick child. I was no longer a council participant, I was a husband and father trying to get back as fast as he could.

Phone calls to friends were made, flights and buses checked, and I was on my way. In the taxi at 6:30, on the bus for the two-hour trip to Mexico City at 7:00, at the airport at 9:00 and on the plane by 10:00. In 6 hours, I was back in Mérida, amazed and thankful for a return trip that took only a third of the trip there.

So here I am again in Mérida doing minstry, ministering to my family and injured wife. Instead of voting on measures I’m measuring servings of cereal for breakfast, instead of trips to the convention center, I’m taking trips to school, but I know that I’m where I’m supposed to be.

Reflecting on the events of the week, I was reminded that God doesn’t just call individuals to the field. He calls families, and those that He calls he doesn’t leave to fend for themselves, nor does He give any member the ability to specialize (i.e. “My ministry is preach and teach, yours is to the family.”) He has sent us all so that when one is weak another can be strong. It just turned out in this case that the one who was called to be strong had to travel 750 miles in order to get home.

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It’s a common scene, actors, tears streaming down their faces, holding their award, reciting the list of people who contributed to their success, and although recent years have seen limits placed on award acceptance speeches, we’ve come to expect the laundry list of names; we’ve come to think of it as a natural part of graciously recognizing that one’s accomplishments are not achieved without the contributions of others. It’s funny though, when we think on special occasions, like the Father’s Day that we just celebrated last Sunday, we tend to bask in the attention and forget those who’ve made us the fathers that we are, our kids.

As I woke up Sunday morning, on the breakfast table sat the new desk set that Kelly had purchased for me–a letter organizer, a pen holder, and a nifty paper clip dispenser, but what gave me pause was a picture frame holding the image that you see above. Immediately, it put the day in perspective. If it wasn’t for my kids, I wouldn’t be a father. So permit me to brag on them a bit in this post.

Rebekah our oldest, aside from being the beautiful 9 year old that she is, is a voracious reader and extremely intelligent individual. When it comes to trivia, she loves to be right, and usually is. Not limited to book knowledge, however, she’s amazingly creative and has style all her own. She’s a lover of animals like her mother, especially horses, who she hopes to treat one day as a veterinarian.

Joseph is our dreamer. He’s got big plans and the persistence to achieve them, but he doesn’t just have his head in the clouds; he’s firmly planted on the ground, often on all fours inspecting the latest insect that has caught his eye. We expect him to take up a career as an electrician, planning skyscrapers or as a biologist studying the nature that he loves.

Jonathan, our youngest, is a happy-go-lucky kind of kid. He knows no strangers and is quick to converse with whoever might be around. He has a natural kindness and an attention to detail that enables him to know just when to use it, be it to give the timely hug to lift a parent’s spirit or the well placed comment to receive the sip of juice or cookie that he’s had his eye on. We expect him to take up a career in public relations.

Yes I’m a proud father, and although it’s come with it’s challenges I’m thankful for the ones who have made it possible for me to be called Dad. And while I have them with me, I’m intent on enjoying every moment.

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