Welcome to the Atherholtmissions Blog Page

Our final Blog

2007-04-06T05:42:00.001-07:00

Welcome back to our blog. This entry has been a long time coming and we are so sorry for not posting sooner. Life here in the Philippines has been a hectic nomadic existence for us over the past month and a half. Jessica and I lived in Manila for a two weeks, then in Antipolo for a month, then back to Puerto Galera for a week, off to Banaue and Sagada for a few days, back to Puerto Galera for 5 days, and are now in Manila for our remaining week in the Philippines. Our lives have been hectic but fulfilling.
Jes finished her numbers for the program, getting her last catch with a beautiful baby girl and I finished my program a while back and have been serving here as a medic. As of now, we will arrive back in Pennsylvania at the end of April. We are very excited to see family and friends. You guys have no idea how much we have missed you. Just thinking of seeing our family and friends gets us excited and makes us impatient at the same time. It has been a full year since we have seen everyone and to be honest, it was much harder then we thought. The work in the Philippines was very rewarding, and we are so glad we did it, but if anyone asks was it hard? Well . . . yes. It may be hard in a different sense then you imagine, but it was hard. We will give specifics in person. Well one quick thing is that we can’t wait to stay a single night in a house that doesn’t have roaches. Yeah, that will be nice.
This will be our last blog before we return to the states. It is pretty hard to wrap up the year in a blog, it is so full of different ideas and feelings. I suppose you become a “long term” missionary with certain expectations. You expect to automatically become more spiritual, after all, you are really “Doing it,” now, instead of staying at home thinking about being a missionary. You expect to have tons of stories about people you healed, the masses brought to Christ. Then once you get here you realize that one year in the mission field is not long term. To make long standing change it requires many many years of service in the same location. If you have read Jessica’s blog then you know we have a lot of sorting out to do.
This might give you a little perspective. If you have read, “The Irresistible Revolution: Living as an Ordinary Radical,” by Shane Claiborne, then you will have a better understanding of our struggles. In that book, Shane challenges Christians to look not at how much they give, but how much they have left in relation to those around them. In the States it is easier to look at our neighbors and see we all have about the same. Sure there are homeless, but statistics show that most of them want to be homeless. You can see the rationalization I am doing here to keep ourselves comfortable and complacent. Please understand that this is neither good nor condoned by me, I’m just making a point. In the mission field you have no luxury of ignorance. These people don’t want to starve, they have no government to hand out food and supplies given from other countries are stolen by the political leaders. Our neighbors would go through our trash every day to find recyclables so they could sell them and have food to eat that day. Meanwhile, we had full shelves of food and money enough to buy more. Sure we gave food to the poor, we did food drives and medical drives. We invited people into our home to eat whenever they came. We helped specific people overcome medical and life issues that they could not overcome alone. Did we do good things? Yes. Did we live like Christ? . . . . . . I don’t know. There were times when Christ was seen through us, but did we live every day like Him?
There is a big difference between giving out of your excess, and giving of yourself. When you give out of your excess you always have plenty left over for yourself. When you give of yourself to Christ and sacrifice yourself for His children, well, it requires sacrifice, and you often have very little left over. This whole idea of suffering for Christ, sacrificing for the ministry, and giving of yourself for God’s people is strange and confusing. As Jes wrote in her blog, we didn’t suffer, we watched other people suffer. I suppose we suffered through roaches, nomadic lifestyle, crazy sleep schedule, stressful times of service, water that always smelled like manure, and taxi drivers that continually took advantage of our ignorance. To some this is suffering. We sacrificed too. We have sacrificed money, time, a year of our lives. We sacrificed time with family, my only nephew in the family is over a half year old and I haven’t seen him yet. But do we really know sacrifice? Have we suffered for Christ? Well, there were some nights when we couldn’t hold back the tears. I admit, it felt like suffering. Still, when we look at our lives, the plentiful amount of food, the continual support of our friends and loved ones at home, and then we look at those around us . . . no, we didn’t suffer, we didn’t sacrifice much. This is the controversy of our spirits. When we do missions in the future will it be radical missions? Will we go live with a tribe in a hut, sacrifice our comfortable lifestyle, and join in long term relationship with the people? I hope so. Was our time here worthless? Definitely not. When Christ is involved in loving people it is never worthless.
Please understand that Jes and I do not regret our time here, nor are we throwing out some false sense of modesty that we did nothing here. We know that the Lord moved, that He was seen to the people through us. There have been relationships formed here with the native people that will last forever. God’s love has been freely given and when God gets involved it is never worthless. We are simply being challenged by these thoughts, by our own ideas of what missions should be, what a life of sacrifice for the cross should be. You are the lucky person who gets to hear our ramblings. ☺ Thank you for sharing this process with us.
What does this all mean? As Jes said, I think it will take a while for us to process it all. For now, we can’t wait to come home and see you. In between that time, please pray for safe travels during our 24 hours of flight and our many days of driving across the country to return to PA. Thanks everyone.

~Steve.

Suffering

2007-04-06T05:41:00.001-07:00

If it is true that to watch others suffer is in itself suffering, then, we have suffered a great deal here. But I think real missionaries go beyond that. Like Mother Teresa, and Ryan and Amanda and others, who are not missionaries as spectators to another culture, trying to lend their wealthy white hand to ease the grimy, grinding poverty… but they actually become the poor, in every way that is possible, they become part of the fabric of a people, of a culture, of a family. Rather than watching suffering, they participate in suffering; they suffer alongside, as one with those who suffer.

Is not being that type of missionary even legitimate? I have seen a very many missionaries here—in fact, all those that I met- living at a standard well above the lifestyle of most Filipinos. I accuse myself of the same. It has kept me up at night and made me weep with frustration, because, although I have welcomed many lives into the world and participated on a small scale with some of the sufferings of the people, I know I am not here long-term, and so my heart and the hearts of the people stay at a distance from one another, not wanting to get too attached, because we both know the end comes long before I actually get to experience their suffering in any real way. And perhaps, in large part, it is because of my own refusal to do so.

Some argue that if you’re used to a certain standard of living, then to delve into the worst of conditions would destroy body and soul and render you useless to the cause. I can agree, as I have not been brave enough to live in a bamboo hut with mud floor during my time here, as I still deeply dislike roaches and huge spiders, as I still enjoy air-conditioning and a shower with soap. I feel ripped apart by what I have seen and experienced, even while realizing that I don’t even begin to understand the depth of the poverty, frustration, and suffering here because I am afraid that if I experience it myself, it may completely overwhelm me. I fear that if I would ingrain myself into the fabric of this culture- of any culture not my own- the weight of the suffering would crush me completely, as I already feel crushed by it, and I have merely watched the suffering of others.

I don’t know what my point is here. I think, maybe, just maybe, this inner wreckage of the soul proves how small and insufficient I am and how grand and beautiful He is, and if I have learned anything this year it is that all of our human efforts really, actually are filthy, dirty rags that do not even scratch the surface of any of the deep, deep problems in this world. It is Him and Him alone—He is all they need, He is the fulfillment of all beauty and purpose and promise, He is the answer to every question and prayer, He is the only answer to poverty and violence and suffering. I can do nothing of worth but be in Him.

I have also learned that it matters not in the least where you are, but rather that you are obedient. Since nothing good can be accomplished outside of Him, obedience, moving with and in Him, and having Him cover and live through you, is the only thing that matters. Missions is not glamorous. Missionaries are not heroes. In fact, most missionaries live like kings, and have the people they came to serve, serve them. I have seen many missionaries who live and work in a desert of the soul. But Jesus- He is beautiful and glorious. And when you see a missionary- working at Sight and Sound, or working in a tiny mountain village in India or the Philippines- who truly loves and knows the heart of God and so abides that the Spirit can move in and through them and the joy of the Lord surrounds them—that is the Kingdom coming to earth. Where you work matters not. How well you love and know Him and as a result minister and meet and suffer alongside His beautiful children—that is the only thing that changes people’s lives. It’s Him, and us being Him, not in theory, but in real, active life.

I miss and love all of you, and am excited to see your beautiful faces when we return home. If you ask me how it was here, I will not have an answer for you for a long, long time. I am dealing with the depravity that I found in my own soul, and with the shallowness of my spirit and with my pride and their suffering and a thousand things that may take years to figure out. What I don’t want, is to look good to you, is to sound like I did something amazing, because I did not. Jesus did something amazing. And because He is so gracious, He keeps doing amazing things that He lets me be in on. If anything good happened here as a result of my coming, it was all Him, and I seriously, really, have never meant that more. He is way too good to me, and I’m still trying to figure it all out, and figure out how to Abide.

I love you all.
jes

January Update

2007-02-07T04:48:00.000-08:00

Hello all, it has been much too long since last we wrote. We have continued to work in the village near our home. The people are so friendly and sweet. It is such a blessing to walk down the road, with smile after smile and a “Hello Kuya Steve,” “Hello Ate Jessica,” wherever we go. We know the people now, their names, and their families. I can’t walk down the road without being asked to come in for a snack or dinner. It is a wonderful thing.

We have been dedicating time to a tribe near where we live. We do weekly outreaches with them. We have done medical clinics, haircuts, and even shampooing the children’s hair. When our friends Scott and Missy came to visit, we took a large piñata to the children. They took over an hour to break it apart and grab the candy inside. Laughter filled the air and it was good.

Unfortunately, Jessica’s midwifery requirements were being completed at too slow a pace in Puerto Galera, there were simply not enough births, so we have moved to a birth clinic in Antipolo for a month. Before the Antipolo clinic, Jessica needs to work for two weeks at the largest maternity hospital in all of Asia, which is located in Manila. They do between 50 and 150 births every day! She will be observing there, loving the women and babies, and gaining a perspective of the third world unlike any other. Meanwhile, we are planning to return to Puerto Galera toward the end of March to finish our time in the Philippines and return to the States in the middle of April. There have been some children with special needs that have come to the clinic where I do medical work and both Jessica and I felt called to help.

Jeseile came into the clinic complaining of a collapse and difficulty breathing. It looked like Asthma at first but she showed no other telltale signs of Asthma. Jeseile is a 12-year-old girl who lives in Puerto Galera with her three siblings. Her mother works a few kilometers from the house where the children sleep but is rarely home. Their father is gone. She had an abscessed tooth two years ago, which forced the infection out through her cheek and caused a boil, which then broke open spreading infection into her face. Unfortunately, after two years of this bacterium in her system she has developed early rheumatic heart disease. The Lord brought her to us a few months ago. After we administered a series of antibiotics she was ready to have the teeth removed. We, and by we I mean the dentist, removed both teeth which allowed us to completely kill the infection. She smiles a lot whenever we see her, and I can understand why. This is the first time in two years that smiling doesn’t hurt. She has also gotten involved in the church where we hold our medical clinics. In fact, Jeseile and all three of her siblings now attend church regularly. Even if their parents are never home, I think they have finally found a family.

Before coming to Manila we were informed of a Hydrocephalic baby who lived close to our home. We went to their house to see a beautiful little girl named Shayne with a very enlarged head. Hydrocephalic babies have water on the brain that causes their very flexible skull to expand. They need a surgery whereby a shunt is placed in the head that drains cerebral spinal fluid into the stomach. A baby without this surgery will eventually die. We immediately decided to take this baby to Manila for surgery as soon as possible. A doctor friend of ours, Francis, helped to make the arrangements at the Philippines General Hospital. The cost of the surgery was always an issue, but we just left it to God to take care of that. Of course He did, and within a few days a neurosurgeon and friend to Dr. Francis said he would do the surgery for free. All we would have to pay for is the equipment and drugs, and find a place for the family to stay for a month. After making arrangements, we brought the baby and parents to Manila last week. Many long days followed with testing, scans, and subsequent visits to different doctors. The outcome was not good. The neurosurgeon faced the family with no hope for the baby. The child had only half a brain. Baby Shayne would never walk, talk, or grow old. In fact, the surgeon is only giving her two years of life before she dies. We were shocked. We were convinced that there was hope; with the Lord all things are possible, and with lots of prayers, brain stimulation, and the placement of the shunt, this child could be a healthy, beautiful little girl. Instead she had just been handed a death sentence.
The parents accepted this doctors words as final, and began to show doubts if they would do the surgery at all. We encouraged them that there was hope, that if Shayne got the shunt there would be a chance at life. The Lord could choose to heal her at any time, we believe that, but we also believe that He could use the hands of a skilled surgeon. That night the parents deliberated over whether or not they would do the surgery. They had to consider the pain of the surgery for their child, especially if it wouldn’t do any good. In their minds Shayne was hopeless, and going to die in a few years regardless of the surgery.

They left two days ago with baby Shayne in their arms. They returned to Puerto Galera to go home and watch their baby be healed or die. Jessica and I were heartbroken. We feel there is a spirit of death here that tries to strangle the little children out from under our noses. It comes to steal the life that God has given us. We need to pray for the Philippines. To pray life back into the children. We need to pray for baby Shayne, the only hope she has rests in Jesus. Please pray for Shayne, pray for the Philippines. It is time we destroy the spirit of death that has been invited here and restore the life that Jesus has promised.

The Simple Way…

2006-12-19T18:40:00.000-08:00

Blog December 17, 2006

The Simple Way…

This is a long one, but well worth the read, especially if you don’t have plans to read the book anytime soon (though I would recommend that first.)

Quotes from the most life-changing book I’ve ever read besides the Bible. This book has wrecked me, and my fragile, small ideas of Jesus and Christianity. Called “The Irresistible Revolution,” by Shane Claiborne. Highly recommended. Just want to share some quotes from the book with you.

“If you ask most people what Christians believe, they can tell you, “Christians believe that Jesus is God’s Son and that Jesus rose from the dead.” But if you ask the average person how Christians live, they are struck silent. We have not shown the world another way of doing life.”

“Sometimes folks (usually of the older persuasion) ask me if I am an evangelical Christian…If by evangelical we mean one who spreads the good news that there is another kingdom or superpower, an economy and a peace other than that of the nations, a savior other than Caesar, then yes, I am an evangelical.”

“When Jesus said, ‘Love your enemies,’ he meant not to kill them.”

“I did not want to settle for a life detached from the groaning of the slums…”

Regarding a survey he conducted asking people what their ideas of Jesus are:

“But I learned a striking thing from the survey. I asked participants who claimed to be ‘strong followers of Jesus’ whether Jesus spent time with the poor. Nearly 80 percent said yes. Later in the survey, I sneaked in another question. I asked this same group of strong followers whether they spent time with the poor, and less than 2 percent said they did. I learned a powerful lesson: We can admire and worship Jesus without doing what he did. We can applaud what he stood for without caring about the same things. We can adore his cross without taking up ours. I had come to see that the great tragedy of the church is not that rich Christians do not care about the poor but that rich Christians do not know the poor.” (Italics mine)

“Layers of insulation separate the rich from the poor. There are obvious layers like picket fences and SUV’s, and there are more subtle ones like charity. Tithes, tax-exempt donations, and short-term missions trips, while they accomplish some good, can also function as outlets that allow us to appease our consciences and still remain at a safe distance from the poor… It is much more comfortable to depersonalize the poor so we don’t feel responsible for the catastrophic human failure that results in someone sleeping in the street while people have spare bedrooms in their homes. We can volunteer in a social program or distribute excess food and clothing through organizations and never have to open up our homes, our beds, our dinner tables. When we get to heaven, we will be separated into those sheep and goats Jesus talks about in Matthew 25 based on how we cared for the least among us. I am not convinced Jesus is going to say “When I was hungry, you gave a check to the United Way and they fed me,” or “When I was naked, you donated clothes to the Salvation Army and they clothed me.” Jesus is not seeking distant acts of charity. He seeks concrete acts of love: “you fed me…you visited me in prison…you welcomed me into your home…you clothed me.”

“When the church becomes a place of brokerage rather than an organic community, she ceases to be alive. She ceases to be something we are, the living bride of Christ. The church becomes a distribution center, a place where the poor come to get stuff and the rich come to dump stuff. Both go away satisfied (the rich feel good, the poor get clothed and fed) but no one leaves transformed. No radical new community is formed. And Jesus did not set up a program but modeled a way of living that incarnated the reign of God, a community in which people are reconciled…”

“When the worlds of poverty and wealth collide, the resulting powerful fusion can change the world. But that collision rarely happens…. I truly believe when the poor meet the rich, riches will have no meaning. And when the rich meet the poor, we will see poverty come to an end.”

“Far from saying in defeat that we should not worry about the poor, since they will always be among us, Jesus is pointing the church to her true identity—she is to live close to those who suffer. The poor will always be among us, because the empire will always produce poor people, and they will find a home in the church, a citizenship in the kingdom of God, where “the hungry are filled with good things and the rich are sent away empty.” I heard that Ghandi, when people asked him if he was a Christian, would often reply, “Ask the poor. They will tell you who the Christians are.””

“As we consider what it mans to be “born again,” as the evangelical jargon goes, we must ask what it means to be born again into a family in which our sisters and brothers are starving to death. …It becomes scandalous for the church to spend money on windows and buildings when some family members don’t even have water. Welcome to the dysfunctional family of Yahweh.”

“True generosity is measured not by how much we give away but by how much we have left, especially when we look at the needs of our neighbors…The early Christians used to write that if they did not have enough food for the hungry people at their door, the entire community would fast until everyone could share a meal together. What an incredible economy of love.”

“In the words of Dorothy Day, “If you have two coats, one belongs to the poor.”

“I am convinced that God did not mess up and make too many people and not enough stuff. Poverty was created not by God but by you and me, because we have not learned to love our neighbors as ourselves.”

“There are so many people who are longing to be brought to life, who know all too well that they have done evil and long to hear not only of a God who embraces evildoers but of a church that does the same.”

Regarding the Community of believers he started, and where he lives in the ghetto of Philadelphia:

“We wrestle to free ourselves from macrocharity and distant acts of charity that serve to legitimize apathetic lifestyles of good intentions but rob us of the gift of community.”

“We are not Good Samaritans, nor are we an efficient nonprofit provider. We are family with (the poor), and money has lost its relevance.”

“Sometimes we have evangelicals (usually from the suburbs) who pretentiously ask how we ‘evangelize people’. I usually tell them that we bring folks like them here (to the community in Philly) to learn the kingdom of God from the poor, and then send them out to tell the rich and powerful there is another way of life being born in the margins. For Jesus did not seek out the rich and powerful in order to trickle down his kingdom. Rather, he joined those at the bottom, the outcasts and undesirables, and everyone was attracted to his love for people in the margins. Then he invited everyone on a journey of downward mobility to become the least.”

“It is a beautiful thing when folks in poverty are no longer just a missions project but become genuine friends and family with whom we laugh, cry, dream, and struggle.”

“When people begin moving beyond charity toward justice and solidarity with the poor and oppressed, as Jesus did, they get in trouble. Once we are actually friends with folks in struggle, we start to ask why people are poor, which is never as popular as giving to charity…Charity wins awards and applause, but joining the poor gets you killed. People do not get crucified for charity. People are crucified for living out a love that disrupts the social order, that calls forth a new world….Christendom seems very unprepared for people who take the gospel that seriously.”

“Jesus was not a missionary to the poor- he was poor- born a baby refugee from the badlands of Nazareth, wandered the world a homeless rabbi, died the rotten death of insurrectionists and bandits on the cross, executed by an oppressive empire, buried in a borrowed tomb. Jesus was not crucified for helping the poor but for joining them. That is the Jesus we follow.”

“It just makes sense not to have families on the street or in abandoned houses, especially when we have a spare bedroom. Honestly, the way of life we have chosen often seems more natural than the alternative. The alternative—moving out (of the ghetto) and living in the suburbs—seems terribly sacrificial (or painfully empty).”

“Once we get past the rebellious or reactive countercultural paradigm and muster up the courage to try living in new ways, most of us find that community is very natural and makes a lot of sense, and that it is not as foreign to most of the worlds population as it is to us. Community is what we are created for. We are made in the image of God who is community, a plurality of oneness. The biblical story is the story of community, from beginning to end. Jesus lived and modeled community with his little band of disciples…the early church is the story of people who were together and were one of heart and mind, sharing all in common.”

“We’ve all heard the saying, ‘Give someone a fish and they’ll eat for a day, but teach them to fish and they’ll eat for the rest of their life.’ But our friend John Perkins challenges us to go farther. He says, “The problem is that nobody is asking who owns the pond.” As we consider economics, some of us will give people fish. Others will teach people to fish. But still others must be looking at who owns the pond and who polluted it, for these are also essential questions for our survival. We must storm the fence that has been built around the pond and make sure everyone can get to it, for there are enough fish for all us.”

Quoting Dr. Martin Luther King Jr:

“We are called to play the Good Samaritan on life’s roadside…but one day we must come to see that the whole Jericho road must be transformed so that men and women will not be constantly beaten and robbed. True compassion is more than flinging a coin at a beggar. It comes to see that a system that produces beggars needs to be repaved. We are called to be the Good Samaritan, but after you lift so many people out of the ditch you start to ask, maybe the whole road to Jericho needs to be repaved.”

On a rally he attended protesting sweatshops:

“I listened as a child from Indonesia stood to share and pointed to a giant scar on his face. “I got this scar when my master lashed me for not working hard enough. When it began to bleed, he did not want me to stop working or to ruin the cloth in front of me, so he took a lighter and burned it shut. I got this making stuff for you.” I was suddenly consumed by the overwhelming reality of the suffering body of Christ. Jesus now bore not just the marks from the nails and the scars from the thorns but a gash down his face, for when we have done it to ‘the least of these,’ we have done it to Christ himself. How could I possibly follow Jesus and buy anything from that master? The statistics now had a face. Poverty had become personal. And that messes with you.”

“We have to ask who the invisible people are. Who makes our clothes? Who picks our vegetables? And how are they treated? Growing up, I was told not to wear a T-shirt that advertised a band unless I agreed with what they stood for, but I was never told to do the same with companies I advertised inadvertently. What do they stand for? What gospel do they proclaim?”

“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing. The whisper cries out for God to save the church from us Christians and breathe new life into the aging Body.”

Shipwreck!

2006-12-19T18:36:00.000-08:00

Shipwreck!

And I wish I was kidding….

A number of life-threatening occasions this month—not only for us, but also for those around us. Excitement, never-ending excitement. I miss home, to be perfectly honest. I miss the normalcy of it all. This is not so easy right now. But Jesus gets gooder and gooder if we rest, and become content in Him.

Sum-up:

Thanksgiving Day—much to be thankful for. So much, especially our lives. Steve and I were riding a tric (a motorbike with a sidecar attached), and going around a bend, Steve managed to keep us from tipping by staying straight…which resulted in a headlong crash into a tree, going full speed. It was not pretty, nor was it as ugly as it could have looked any other way you sliced it. Next to the tree, there was a 15 foot immediate drop-off. And tipping is much less pretty. Nonetheless, we were bloodied a bit- Steve’s head met the tree, and something punctured his leg pretty deep, not to mention the bruises and his wrist that’s still swollen and painful. I walked away with a huge gash on my index finger- should’ve had stitches but I’m a wimp and backed out of that. Still can’t really feel some of that finger, and I never will- I’ve got a good scar, though~ ☺

The Following Monday—went to a birth, as usual. And all went as usual, until the actual birth itself. I will spare the details, but basically, the baby had a number of factors working against it, and got stuck on the way out. By the time we got the baby out, it was flat (meaning, no longer alive). This beautiful little girl, wow. We pumped that little heart and breathed into those tiny lungs and prayed and prayed a thousand prayers…
And Jesus is so, so gracious, He gave Chantal breath, finally. Her heartbeat came back after a few minutes, and then her breathing returned… we (the midwives) were sweating and shaking and rushed her off to the hospital… it was intense, to say the very, very least. But she is a beautiful, healthy little baby now, and we couldn’t be more happy, or more thankful to Jesus.

The Friday after that Monday--- First bad typhoon. Called Typhoon Durian, which I prefer to call the most terrifying experience of my life. I, for one, enjoy storms, but this storm, which uprooted ancient trees and threw them around like sticks, which tore the roofs off homes and turned entire houses on end (not kidding)—not an enjoyable storm. Sleep was impossible that night, with tree branches slamming into the house and tin flying through the air, we huddled in our bed as the house felt (and sounded) like it was being ripped apart. In the middle of the night, a huge tree came crashing into our house; absolutely the most horrific sound, for a minute I thought I was dead. As we jumped out of bed I fully expected to find a dark, wet tree where our living room had been. Instead, wow these cement walls are thick! The tree only broke through the roof, and not the ceiling. As more trees (albeit smaller ones) fell onto the house, we shoved our kitchen table into a doorway in the center of our little house and crawled under it for protection. And this, my friends, is how the rest of the night was spent. We sang praise songs huddled under our kitchen table, and tried to drown out the terrifying noise around us.

Two days ago…. Typhoon #2. Actually, I shouldn’t say that, this is the fifth typhoon we’ve been through since we’ve arrived in the Philippines. But as far as severe is concerned—this is the second. Actually, the rain and wind seemed harmless enough (nothing like Typhoon Durian), and during the storm, we got a birth call. So we went to the clinic, and it ended up being a pretty rough time- by the time we needed to transport the mom to the hospital, the roads were flooded, so we just stood by anxiously, prepared to take care of any emergency to the best of our ability, and praying that there would be no emergency. Finally, after 5 hours of pushing (a very bad thing) the baby was born, and all was well. Thank God. By this time we were in the dark, as the typhoon 10 days ago had knocked out power and it has yet to be restored. When mother and baby were settled in for the night and all was well, I stepped outside onto the porch of the clinic. Water, as far as the eye could see, greeted me at the porch steps. As we all know, sewage runs in openly in the streets here, so having a flashlight with me did not really help so much, as I really had no desire to see what was around me as I stepped into the brown waste and started to sludge out of there. When we got to the main road, the brown lake turned into a rushing river, and we had to hold hands and stay in the center of the street to avoid being swept by the torrents running off into side rivers. As we waded carefully through knee deep brown sewage water, various things kept hitting our legs as they rushed toward us. Thankfully, no huge branches or anything of the sort came rushing at us to knock us off balance, and we waded up the hill to the car. As we drove home—and home, by the way, is winding around the side of a mountain, with dropoffs into the ocean every once in a while—the mountain was falling. Huge boulders and piles of mud sat in the road. As soon as we would hear it, we would drive faster, and miss the mini-landslides. And this is how the drive went, until we arrived to our homes.

So yesterday…. (I know, it seems impossible that it could continue like this, but alas, it does…. ) Yesterday, Vicki left to go to Manila. Vicki is the leader of Mercy in Action, the one who started and runs the school. She is a brilliant, experienced midwife, missionary, and leader. Steve and I lived with her and her husband Scott in Boise, Idaho this summer. Anyway, she got on the boat to go to Luzon, which is the only way off of our island…. And her boat sank. You may be asking yourself “does this stuff actually happen?!” and I am here to testify, yes, yes it actually does. Her boat sank, and all 105 passengers on the once-overcrowded boat spent an hour in the water, with huge waves, strong winds, and driving rain coming down on them as they held onto the submerged vessel and treaded water, covered in diesel engine fuel, having lost every belonging they carried to the depths of the sea. Not only that but there were not enough life vests for all of the passengers, so Vicki went without. Thank God, smaller boats came around after about an hour and rescued passengers, and they all made it- wet, shaken, and without their personal stuff- to the other side safely.

Soooo….this is our life right now. I feel like it’s a little too intense for my liking, if I can be completely honest. I wish for home, for good weather and bugs that don’t have fangs and electricity. I am amazed at the stamina of the people, for whom brushes with death seem to be an almost daily, lifelong reality, and yet, nothing stops them, they continue to rejoice in life, when the power goes out for months, when the streets turn to rivers, when their houses are destroyed in typhoons and mudslides and their people are destroyed by oppression and corruption and sinking boats without life vests…. They amaze me with joy.

I love all of you so much-

jes

Typhoons

2006-11-01T05:31:00.001-08:00

Apparently, there have been numerous severe typhoons here in the gorgeous, tropical Philippines. I, for one, have seen none of it except for a 2 day span where it rained and the roads were flooded so we couldn’t go anywhere and then we were without power for 4 days, all of which I didn’t feel was entirely unusual, I mean, it is the tropical third world, right? But, apparently lots of people have died. And there was another one this week, which is crazy because it barely even rained here, and yet a bunch of hours north entire villages are buried under landslides and 1,000 people are dead, according to the news reports. And that’s another interesting thing—I wouldn’t know any of this because we’re pretty much isolated from the world except that I look up the news online every once in a while. Anyway—we feel impelled to help with this, and I think Steve and I are going to look into finding an organization that needs volunteers to go up north and clean up the wreckage and help the victims of natures worst. So if you know of anyone who is sending people drop us a line, otherwise please pray for us in our little venture.
thanks!

-jes

The DJ Project

2006-11-01T05:31:00.000-08:00

Something I hope ya’ll will get involved in! Read on….
Here's the story.
Sarah Anne is one of my teachers in midwifery, as well as Steve's and my current roommate here in Puerto Galera. Sarah graduated from Mercy in Action two years ago and has worked for the school ever since. She has lived in the Philippines for about a year and a half, and has made great friends with one of the women who's baby she delivered at Mercy in Actions clinic in Manila. Her dear friend, Dijohanna, lives in Welfareville with her two children, and about 7 other relatives in a tiny cement house. Sarah has been extremely involved in Dijohanna's life and has seen the grinding poverty that DJ lives in firsthand. Well, DJ's 6 year old daughter Nicole was recently diagnosed with Tuberculosis, and the cost of treating TB is more than DJ's family can afford. Sarah and I were talking and she shared with me how badly she wanted to set DJ up with some sort of income, a way that she could earn money and provide for her family, or at least afford her daughters medicine. I shared with her the idea of DJ making jewelry, then Sarah and I could ship it to our cool friends in the US, who might know people who could buy it. So, Sarah and I went to DJ's house in Welfareville last week, and took her shopping for beads and supplies to make jewelry. She has been working hard ever since! It seems that this project has revitalized her and her family, and they are all getting into it; even DJ's brothers are helping to make the jewelry.
Which brings me to the part where you could be involved—Wondering if you might be interested in selling a few pieces for DJ. I think it's pretty cool stuff, you may really like it! I can send you pictures of some of her stuff if you email me and ask. And DJ can make pieces to order, so you can ask for particular colors or styles or whatever (she can also make guys jewelry, little girls bracelet/necklace sets, a bracelet to match a necklace, etc.etc.) We would just send you a box of jewelry, maybe 20-30 pieces (or just give me a number of how many pieces you think you could sell) and a little story with some pictures of DJ and her family so people know why you're selling the stuff and where the money is going. And then you'd send us the money, and we'd give it to DJ! Sarah is also looking to create a more long-term income for DJ and her family (like, if you come across someone owns a shop and becomes interested in carrying DJ's jewelry, that would be amazing.) Otherwise, this is a one-time deal, just selling a single box would be more income than DJ's 10 family members would make in 3 months. Sooo... Thank you for listening to my rambles, please, if you can, let me know if this project interests you, and if you'd like me to send you a box of jewelry.
Thank you thank you THANK YOU for your time, and for helping Sarah change the lives of this one little family in Welfareville, and especially for one 6-year-old named Nicole, whose life will be forever changed (and saved, in fact) by your kindness.
Email me if this interests you!

-jes

The Kingdom

2006-11-01T05:30:00.000-08:00

Jesus has to keep reminding me about whose kingdom this is. Our cool friend Cara always talks about how the systems of this world are set up to fail, and that’s the point, because Jesus’ kingdom is the only one that stands. And I’ve been thinking about this a lot, because this kingdom is failing--it’s very easy to notice when you live in third world injustice. And it gets me down when I hear statistics about how nothing is improving- despite the billions of charitable dollars spread out all over the world, despite the efforts of hundreds of thousands of organizations and countless lives who have toiled and continue to be poured out on behalf of the poor, the number of children dying increases daily, AIDS continues to consume Africa, the earth is warming even more speedily despite all of our recycling, slavery the world over is at an all time high and gaining, diarrhea and other extremely curable diseases take even more thousands of lives, etc. etc. All this despite our best efforts to stem the tide.

The other day I had an epiphany. Trying to shore up a completely bombed out system that was designed to not work, is, well, not working (as evidenced by not even a dent in any the statistics.) The point is not to fix what has gone wrong with the system—everything is wrong with it-- it wasn’t built right in the first place. The system we live under here on earth is man’s doing, and Satan has had a heyday with it, and it is coming to the breaking point. We cannot fix an entire world system that has already started to collapse. All of our years of effort is like throwing a pint of water on the sun thinking we can put out the fire. Isn’t happening.

So here’s the thing. Our point on earth is to bring His kingdom on earth, just as it is in heaven. Because here’s what’s so great about his system: It’s not failing. And His justice is the only fair and lasting justice that will rightly level against all of the evil in this world. His system is perfect, and eternal. Really, it is the only thing that works, which is why He told us to pray that His kingdom would come to earth as it is in heaven.

This actually explains a lot to me about why Jesus lived his life the way he did. There were poor people all around him, but he was never trying improve their quality of life by toiling to fix this system. Instead He brought his kingdom to earth to glorify Himself, and as a result the blind received sight, the lame walked, the dead were raised. More happens, with real, lasting effects, when His kingdom comes.

And then he tells us to go and do even greater things than these. So it’s not about fixing this failing system; it is about bringing His kingdom to earth. Because if people are filled with the power and the spirit of God, they have the one true, eternal necessity- God Himself.

So what is His kingdom? There are so many verses about caring for the poor, the sick, the hungry, and how whatever we do for them is done for Him. We are to focus on each heart, each soul we meet, and expend ourselves to bring Jesus to them, and to meet the needs that we find (I use the word “find” because we are to be looking for them). And every small thing done for even the least of these, is done for Him. That’s His kingdom coming to earth, through us.
-jes

Birthing, Thoughts on Poverty

2006-11-01T05:29:00.000-08:00

A perfectly normal evening, a perfectly healthy newborn baby boy. Not breathing. No life. Dying, though he lived just moments ago. And for no reason, but the enemy comes to take him. To feel the actual fight for life over death, almost tangible in a room like that. Mother calls to her baby “Christopher! Wake up! Come back to me, baby!” No response. Christopher lays in the arms of the desperate midwives, flaccid, closed eyes, as they pump his tiny little chest and force breaths into his brand new lungs.
More than I can describe, the blood, the tearing, the hemorrhage afterward. Not enough to eat, this mom, and as a result, a near death experience just to bring life. She lays in a pool of her own blood, waning into unconsciousness, as midwives, as I myself, massage her abdomen with my bloody hands, willing the blood to stop flowing. More pitocin. One stick. And then another. There. Her life is saved, her uterus contracted, the blood finally stops. Give her fluids, start an IV. She’s ok. But what of the others? What of the hundreds of other Buntas, expectant moms, ready to give birth? What about their malnutrition, what about their hemorrhage? What about their poverty, and their ignorance that a massage at the right moment and a $2 shot will keep her from dying when she gives birth in a few days? What about her life, that of her children, and her brand new baby? What of them when they are orphaned, because she doesn’t know, and there is no one to tell her? 2 Million women die in childbirth a year—for what? For this? For a fundal massage and a shot of pitocin? Are you kidding? My mind wills not to believe it, as life is so simply saved, and yet so continuously taken.
Then the women- 16, 17, some so obviously young you know they are lying about their age and wonder who, exactly, it was that got them pregnant. The ones who come in laboring, eyes filled with fear, swearing that they have a husband, he’s just…away. The ones who’s fathers stand over them, watching their daughter give birth to his baby. The ones who tell you, because they’re scared, or feel guilty, that they went to the Catholic church and bought some horrible abortificient from a street vendor out front, and it didn’t work, and now they’re worried about deformities. They felt too young to be a mom (they are). They are too poor to afford a baby (they are). How will their family survive? Saying things like “God will provide” seems a little inappropriate, at this moment, wherein I can afford pretty much everything I need and want, and if I for some crazy reason I’m not rich enough for that, I can get money from a variety of sources. And this teenage mom who lives in a cement and cardboard house—what about her life? And her baby? It is not that I don’t believe God can (and will) provide—I agree with Heidi Baker when she says “Because He died, there is always enough” – it is that I am wondering by what source the “enough” will come. We are His hands and feet. It is through us, and yet, there are a thousand complications and negative ramifications of just going ahead and “providing” for this one—one of the dozens of girls, in this clinic, one of millions of girls worldwide-- in the same situation. Not only that, but we’re also not allowed to hand out money, which would be a very bad practice to start, I wholeheartedly agree that enslaving a people group to dependency is NO good at all.
….. So, dear one, God will provide. I know not how, but He will. I am just the midwife, and the scope of your problems extend beyond the realm of my work, which is prenatal care and births. So run along, sweetheart, go back to your cold little shack, and make sure you eat a lot of protein that you can’t afford for that baby growing inside of you that you can’t afford….God bless you, and I will pray that He will provide.

“Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him ‘Go, I wish you well, keep warm and well fed,’ and yet does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it?”

This little story was simply an illustration of my frustration in trying to rectify my comparative wealth with the poverty all around me, and trying to understand the scope and depth of poverty. There is no pat answer; and there is so much more to be considered than I ever understood. There is the culture of poverty, the culture of the country, the shame and oppression, the materialism of the impoverished as well as the wealthy, the government policies (don’t get me started on this one) that are fashioned to keep the marginalized oppressed, there is industry and finance and Wal-Mart, a HUGE proponent of slave labor and oppression and EXTREME corruption (we have worked directly with those at the bottom of the Wal-Mart chain here in the Philippines, who are paid approximately 20 cents per day turning out some product that unwitting Americans will purchase and throw away with no knowledge of the family that starved to bring them their little trinket.)
There are issues on how and why and which way to go about feeding the poor and helping the hungry so that they become empowered to help themselves rather than enslaved to dependency upon “white people.”
And there are some amazing organizations doing it right. Micro-financing is probably one of the most ingenious things ever created to empower the poor. Not only that, but organizations like BRAC, who hire and train women in India and all over the world in basic health care, and then employ the women oversee their villages training and equipping the people with healthcare knowledge and saving lives. Things like 10,000 Villages are empowering the people and encouraging national artistry by paying a fair price for amazing handcrafts, and then selling them in the States. Another example—our good friend Kristen Hertzog went to Haiti and built a relationship with an honest, intelligent, hardworking, deeply impoverished young man, and sent him to school. She sponsored him through computer training school, and when he graduated, she went to Haiti and personally saw him to a number of job interviews that she helped him set up. As a result, he is now working for a bank, and has been able to purchase a home for his (formerly homeless) family. He is also teaching his sister everything he knows about computers, and is planning on not only helping her get a job, but working on a project that does for other impoverished kids what Kristen did for him. I am so impressed by this; it just takes a small investment of time and money to really, really change the world.

-jes

Justice Song

2006-11-01T05:26:00.000-08:00

2 songs that have taken on such rich meaning for me while I’ve been here.

The first song started to strike me while I was still in theater, as I am so passionate about theater, and yet justice was calling. And hope, and grace…. a rewriting of the tragedy. It is so ironic that Sarah (Groves) would have written a song especially defining how I’ve felt

Tonight I forgot a line
In the play that you and I
Have been rehearsing since the day we met
You made me put down my script
And made me look around a bit
Wonder how we came to play these parts

And I’m here
To rewrite this tragedy
One line at a time
Hold on, I’m changing all this scenery
It’s ok, we’ll be fine
‘Cause we know how this ends

Sometimes it’s hard to tell
What to keep and what to kill
What of this makes us who we are
All that we love the most
All that we could not let go
How much change can we survive

And I’m here
To rewrite this tragedy
One line at a time
Hold on, I’m changing all this scenery
It’s ok, we’ll be fine
‘Cause we know how this ends
We know there’s a better story

There’s a better story
Of true love
Of true grace
There’s a hope of glory
And our first chance
To truly be brave
It’s the place we’re going
When we can’t stay where we are

Come on, let’s rewrite this tragedy
O Lord, we’re changing all this scenery
It’s ok, we’ll be fine
‘Cause we know how this ends
We know there’s a better story

Sarah Groves, from the album “Add to the Beauty”

The other is “Why” by Rita Springer, from A Fragrant Offering

Why does the moon get so full
She asks with a questioning face
Who’s gonna keep me warm
Why did my daddy walk away
Why can’t I live in a house
On a hill or far away
Why does the moon get so full
And my belly stays empty for days

Why does one child die
And another one gets to live
Why do I even ask why
Oh, it’s the sign of the times
Closing on in
Why can’t we hear our own lies
And search for the truth again
Why does one child die
And another one gets to live

Well they say it’s a twist of fate
Gets you in or takes you out
Providential circumstance
Isn’t that what life’s all about
Well go and tell that to the widow and the orphan
We’re preaching that to the hungry and the poor
Numb my heart and my hands
And I can’t feel them
I can’t feel them
I can’t feel them anymore

Why do we climb up the ladder
Just to buy a bigger roof
So we can stand and look down below
And say we’ve got something to prove
We all wear those colored ribbons
A tiny sign of a much bigger need
It’s the thought that counts, not an answer
But the price is rather cheap

Well they say it’s a twist of fate
Gets you in or takes you out
Providential circumstance
Isn’t that what life’s all about
Well go and tell that to the widow and the orphan
We’re preaching that to the hungry and the poor
Numb my heart and my hands
And I can’t feel them
I can’t feel them
I can’t feel them anymore

So wise, your cold solutions
And your warm but empty words
Please don’t show me your clean hands
When I see on mine only dirt
Don’t avoid the faces of the orphans
When they cry to be caught from the fall
Tell her why her stomach is empty
And why the moon is so full

We are back from our Outreach.

2006-10-29T02:55:00.000-08:00

We are back to Puerto, where Jes and I have our apartment. Things are good here, we had a ton of travel but it all went well. Coming back from the island I was on I had to take a motorcycle to a boat, to a tricy, (a motorcycle attached to a cart) to a van, to an airplane, to another van, to a ferry boat, back on a tricy, and finally home. Transportation here is a bit more complicated then in the states.

I, Steve, was on the ilsand of CPG, just off of Bohol. I had the chance to teach many villagers about good nutrition, how to stop dehydration in babies, how to determine when to go to a doctor or not, and so much more. You have to understand that when a villager goes to a doctor, they have to use the only money they have to feed their family for a month. It all goes to the doctor. If they can use teachings correctly they can afford to feed their families instead of going to a doctor and buying expensive antibiotics for a common cold. We did many medical outreaches, gave lots of free antibiotics to babies, children, and adults for bacterial infections. I had someone come to our door late at night to tell us a man was sick. I ran up to his house and found him bundled up on his bed, shaking. The man had a 105 degree fever. He was on the verge of serious danger. They don't know to strip off the clothes, use cold water and fan him to lower his temperature. They would have kept him covered as his shook from chills. At 106 your brain cells start to die and you begin to experience hyperpyrexia. The first stage of hyperpyrexia is seizures. Shortly after, your brain fries in your head and you die. Luckily we were there and we stripped off the blankets, cooled him down, and administered a lot of fever reducer. After praying for him we left and went back for dinner. I returned to his house four times over the course of 12 hours. By the next morning his fever was almost gone. It was a one day virus, but in this case it could have killed this man.
I had a poor girl who gave her baby a bottle shortly after birth. The baby of course favored the bottle because it was easier to suck and would not go back to her breast for milk. This is very common with babies in the third world. While fine in the US because we are so rich, and even the poor in the US are rich compared to these people, it is not fine in the Philippines. Instead of buying formula or even cows milk, which they can not afford, they are reduced to feeding the baby rice water and coffee. They think the water after rice is boiled looks white and milky and coffee is known to give energy to people. They of course don't understand that it is caffeine and not nutrients that give people the burst of energy. This mother had a 9 month old baby who looked like a 2 month old. It was thin and very sick. The baby had a serious infection. I immediately gave the appropriate antibiotic. After explaining why it is so important to breastfeed and praying for her, I had to let the mother go. I wanted to stay with her, talk and encourage her, maybe even get her something to eat. But behind her was a line of over 150 other people we had to give checkups to and each one had problems they could not afford to ignore. After two weeks of sleeping on a concrete floor, bathing in water that smelled like cow manure, and seeing so many sick and injured, I was pretty tired. Despite all the people we helped with medicine, the most rewarding was the health teachings. If we can teach the people to take care of their children, they will not need us to give drugs to stop illnesses that can be avoided.

It was also amazing to spend time in prayer, worship, and bible study with the people. I had the opportunity to give the sermon on Sunday at church which was quite an adventure. This society is not linear in their thought process. They don't pass information from point to point to point. They tell stories. So that is what I did. Inside the story was the sermon, but it was wrapped in a story I hoped they would remember.

Jessica had the chance to head deliver 4 babies over the past two weeks. She has watched and assisted many more. Her first baby she delivered had a birth defect and the cord broke just as she caught the baby in her hands. The baby can bleed out from the cord in just a few minutes. They clamped the cord immediately and saved the babies and mother's life. Our leader here says she has never seen anything like that before, and Jes probably will never see it again. Of course with women who are terribly malnourished, you never know what you will see.

The Lord continues to challenge both of us, test us, and refine what we think we know of this world. Lol, oh what a close minded perspective I have had of this world.

~Steve.

What makes a missionary?

2006-10-04T03:21:00.000-07:00

Most people think missions is the ultimate climax of the Christian work. You can stay at home and work, raise kids, and teach Sunday School, but compared to missions work this is nothing. This of course is very far from the truth. The world is full of missionaries who want to change the world. These missionaries want to travel the world, find the poorest of the poor and help them. While this is a wonderful goal, a lot of the time the driving force is to do something great, something grander then what is found at home, to become the kind of hero the world needs. To become the defender of the defenseless, the person everyone thinks of with a little awe . . . they sacrificed everything to cross the world and help the poor. The truth is, unless you are willing to help in the most basic of needs, to love your neighbor, to wipe the butts of lots of children, to clean up after a messy house, you will never be ready for the mission field. There is nothing romantic about missions. This isn’t a grander form of Christian service then what you find at home. In fact, unless you are willing to serve at home in the most basic places, loving those around you, then you can never be the kind of hero the world needs. The world needs people who can clean toilets, wipe babies butts, and love those around them with their service. These people can serve at home, or in the mission field, and is it any different? Of course not. The only difference is that the foreign missionary is half way around the world from home, and this is a personal note, often misses his family terribly.
This has been my missionary experience so far. I have helped move two 18 wheelers full of stuff at 3:00am, cleaned up gallons and gallons of backed up sewage from the floor with a towel, a bucket, and my hands. I have killed over a hundred cockroaches in one night, six spiders the size of a small hand, and hundreds of fire ants. I have painted for days and days, installed lights, and learned how to drive the crazy Philippines roads and I have fed and played with lots of lots of children. This encompasses most of my missionary experience so far. We have done some medical outreaches and had the chance to diagnose some medical conditions and prescribe antibiotics, but most of our lives here is spent doing the former. Missions is not extraordinary, it is every day life. And honestly it is no different than those who stay home and raise kids, work a job, and share the gospel of Christ while they do it. Applause to you home missionaries.

~Steve.

Moving From Manilla

2006-09-19T03:13:00.002-07:00

What’s Up…

Hello Everyone!
An update about what’s happening with us—
We are moving out of Manila on September 25th, as Mercy in Action is officially relocating to Mindoro, an island about an hour south of Manila. We will be living in a resort town, right by pristine white sandy beaches with the mountains overlooking, and make note friends-there are numerous gorgeous (and inexpensive!) resorts in the area. The women there, particularly in the mountain villages, are in desperate need of proper maternity care, as most of the nationals in the area are extremely poor. We will be working with a doctor at a clinic he has set up there. We may eventually have our own little place to decorate (and by place I mean hut with cement walls and tin roof ), but that won’t happen right away. Please take note, there is a new phone number listed on the contact page. This is our cell phone number, please call us anytime, but remember, it’s free for us to receive a call, but it may be expensive for you to call, depending on your carrier. Texting is quite a bit cheaper for us; if you want to text us, check into your carriers prices; again, it is free for us to receive your texts. Remember with calls, there is a 12-hour time difference, but if you want to call don’t worry about the time, I’ll need to get used to getting up in the middle of the night to deliver babies anyway. We are setting up Skype on our computers, but it isn’t set up for you to call us on that, so as far as phones are concerned, our cell number is the way to reach us. When we have an address we’ll let you know, but remember, only send stuff that you don’t mind sharing with the world—it’s very likely that anything you send can be opened numerous times before it reaches us, if it reaches us. I don’t know about internet access there- hopefully it’ll be available, we’ll see. We are doing well, enjoying it here, wishing it would snow, or even just get below 400 degrees. Please keep praying for us!

Love you all!
-jes

One.org

2006-09-19T03:13:00.001-07:00

Cool little blog from One.org (if you’re not involved, get involved, it’s pretty amazing)…
“I believe the fight against AIDS and global poverty is the fight of our generation. I recently asked my father where he was during the American Civil Rights movement, and if he felt a pull to be involved. As I listened to his answer, I thought, "What will my children hold me accountable for?" In the years to come, when my children ask me what I did to fight AIDS in Africa and how I tried to keep millions from needlessly dying of poverty, I want to have an answer. A real answer. This is the fight of my generation, and I will not pretend I don't understand what devastation will occur if I do not act. [The ONE Campaign] gives me a voice in this most important battle, and I intend to use it.”

-Laura, the One Campaign

~ Jes

Welfareville

2006-09-19T03:13:00.000-07:00

Walk with me through Welfareville. See the sun streaming in little slits through the mass of concrete and cardboard, pasted haphazardly in what is trying to be a sort of makeshift shelters, but has gone horribly, twistedly wrong, to form what is, in fact, far inferior to any rusted out doghouse in the States. As you walk, notice your feet. Stepping through sewage and trash, you realize that there is no place to dispose of trash, and there are no bathrooms, nor toilet paper or water to clean with. Try not to imagine what you are walking through, nor the sheer degradation of life as a pregnant woman, a child, a woman menstruating, or you yourself, who just needs to use the bathroom and must share that experience with all of your neighbors, and with the white people who choose to come through unannounced. Keep walking. Notice the dirty water dripping from who knows where above you. Look up and see the tiny alleyway that you are walking through, with tin, cement, cardboard, and pieced of discarded plastic and old cloth towering into what cannot possibly be called living spaces on both sides of you. Try not to imagine what an earthquake or a fire would do to this place; how many it would kill in just an instant. Keep walking, and as you do, notice the people. In tiny hovel after tiny hovel, you cannot help but look in the windows, at dark, shadowy faces of tiny, beautiful children staring out at you, amazed at your white face and clean clothes, at the tough hiking sandals that protect your feet from the sewage. Notice their tiny feet. Bare, or maybe, a flimsy, dirty pair of plastic flip-flops to protect them. You look ahead, and see a tiny little girl, who looks maybe three years old, although you know she is probably six or seven. She is wearing only a torn, dirty white shirt, staring at you with huge, beautiful black eyes with her shock of thin but shiny black hair and beautiful olive skin. You notice her legs, covered in sores. As other little children join her, notice them, all similarly dressed. You notice their bodies- thin, tiny, much smaller than they should be for their ages. Notice the sores, infected cuts, and lesions of various kinds on their tiny bodies, especially their legs. They all have thin hair, and many are blind, or have other major limitations. As you walk, try to forget that with 40 US cents a year, you could have stopped their blindness, caused from Vitamin A deficiency.
You are hit with the heat. It has been barely tolerable until now, but as you continue winding your way through the sewage-lined alleys, you notice your shirt sticking to your back, your body covered in sweat and the people’s grime, the intense humidity which intensifies the odors of open cooking fires in tiny, rusted out cans, of the roosters that are everywhere, tethered in front of doorways where barely clothed children play, of almost rotting meat for sale on tiny street corners. You take a swig from your purified (if warm) water bottle, and you try not to wonder what grows in the stomachs the people, and what kind of water sources they might have, if there are any. There are two little children playing barefoot under your feet, as you step on broken glass, remnants of dead chicken, remains of cockroaches covered in fire ants, and indescribable piles of filth all over the alley.
You are invited into a home. As you glance into the stream of sewage that you must step over in order to enter, you notice what looks like some sort of animal intestines among the pieces of who knows what floating in the gray water. You ignore it, and notice the little children of the house stepping deftly over the sewage. One little girl almost sticks her foot into it, and you reach over to pick her up and put her safely on the street. As you do, you try not to imagine what must happen here when the it rains, as happened a few nights before, and even in your neighborhood the streets flooded knee-deep with sewage water, and the homes too close to the ground seeped with stench and wet.
As you enter the hovel, you note the size - it is approximately double the size of a walk-in closet, and it is split by sheets into two living spaces, for two separate families. You notice the electricity- one outlet. No windows; it is, in fact, extremely dark with one dull light bulb overhead. Walls and floor are cement and scraps of tin and cardboard. Stacked and hung from floor to ceiling are the peoples few belongings, in grocery-store plastic bags. There is no space for a bed for the four people who live here. Random pieces of old, broken furniture are shoved as neatly as possible together into this room, and are set up to be makeshift work spaces, as with a bowl and spoon and an old, dirty pot on a plastic chair for a kitchen. You notice a piece of shiny fabric on top of a cardboard box-grandma, who is blind, sleeps on that. You imagine how it is to be pregnant and have to deliver a baby in a place like this, much less with no help, and no knowledge of birth. In the center of the very tiny room hangs what seems to be a ripped up hammock, and inside of this is a baby sleeping contentedly in his bed- a piece of cardboard covered with two cloth dinner placemats. The lady inside, named Francis, delivered this baby at the Mercy in Action clinic, which is now closed. She runs a little “restaurant”—she has a pot of food out on the street that she sells to passer-bys. Francis asks for prayer because the wealthy Filipino man who lives comfortably in his gated home on the same street as her business has politely asked the government to shut down her only source of income, as he is bothered by the traffic in front of his home, and feels her business to be a danger and annoyance to him and his family. So she has fifteen days to get rid of her ‘restaurant.’ You volunteer to pray for her. Go ahead.
As you do, a huge cockroach runs between your feet, right underneath the babies’ bed. You know that the cockroaches here fly, and they bite—you wonder how many times the baby has been affected by the infestation of cockroaches, not to mention the rats. You wonder how all the babies here deal with that, how many get sick, how many die. You wonder where the mothers dispose of all the babies that die from infection and the children that die because there isn’t food enough for them to live. You know death is a part of life here, as it happens constantly, affecting every family and stealing life and precious years.
You wonder about the joy you have seen in this place today, the beautiful people you have met, how friendly, kind, and generous they are, even offering you their food, though they barely have enough. How they invited you into their homes; how the women laughed, especially when they saw the handsome white men with you; how they delight in you when you attempt to speak Tagalog.

You decide you cannot take pictures. You cannot barge into these fragile lives as a rich, powerful white person, an American what’s more, and photograph their poverty so blithely, photograph their suffering, their real, actual pain so that you can go to your friends and sit together and moan about how poor they are and how rich you are and tell yourself again that you will never complain about anything, and move on with your life. You decide that you do not dare capture a part of their lives and use it so offensively against them in that way. You are struck by truth- you could photograph away with a camera whose worth could buy life, or vision, or health for a great many people here, and after you do, you will march right out of this slum, what really can barely even be called a slum for the grinding desperation of it, a free person, free from the slavery of that poverty, and you know you will have a nice shower with shampoo and good soap and clean water and wipe off the grime that will never come off for the lives of the hundreds of thousands stuck there, and you’ll be sad, and you’ll develop your pictures and show your friends because you love Jesus and really want to help these people, and after a while of being back “in your own life” the grinding pain they suffer daily will become a helpful reminder to your own life to be grateful, and that will be nice as you continue to live in belligerent excess.
So you do not take pictures. You do not want to be so assuming, so offensive, so obnoxiously American, and patronize such beautiful, royal people as these. You know that you will someday photograph, but only after you become a student of these people, when you know their names, their hearts, their hurts, and most especially their language. Only when you have walked with them through trials, delivered their babies, known their families, will you then photograph your friends. In the meantime, you know that if your friends in the beautiful US want to see the people and the life, they can Google Image “Welfareville” to find pictures that someone else took.

Thank you for your bravery of walking that journey. It was a hard one to walk, and I am amazed at you for going. Please know, I mean no offense to anyone by any thoughts expressed; I want to simply share the strong feelings I had due to my experience in Welfareville, and mean to apply those strong feelings only to my lifestyle of belligerent excess and to my culture where excess is not even called out for what it is; instead it is called necessity. Reality is a different thing in the streets of Welfareville; necessity a different word.

~ Jes

Cockroach

2006-09-19T03:12:00.000-07:00

Cockroach
Last night I had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of the noted Filipino cockroach. I came upon her as I was brushing my teeth. It felt like a movie scene where an innocent but bumbling idiot is talking and at the same time unknowingly waving his gun around at his listeners, and everyone tenses up because although they know there is no harm intended, everyone feels that they might die at any moment.
Our introductions were brief for this reason, and I do sincerely hope that massive creature left unoffended by my quick exit.
If you cannot think of any one of the million reasons to visit the Philippines, I would absolutely recommend a trip to these beautiful islands just to marvel at the sheer size of the various creatures and vermin that join you in your bedroom at night. They are truly awe-inspiring, in that repulsively fascinating sort of way. It’s a great place to look for exotic pets—I mean truly, when a spider is the size of both hands outstretched, it deserves a leash, a name, and a handful of bugs to eat, or mice, or maybe even people.
If I might also recommend, when you come, try to find a room without a bed, where the walls do not meet the floor, so that while you sleep on the floor, you are able to gaze out through the slit into the night and wonder what sort of creatures might be crawling up the walls outside, and fall asleep dreaming about them crawling toward your face and making their home in your sheets. It is truly, truly an experience like none other.

I hesitate to say this because I fear they may read this email and amass an army to attack our bedroom but-- We have not actually seen any creatures in our bedroom except for one dead cockroach the first night we were here, which really doesn’t count cuz he’s dead, and some tiny spiders. Of course, it doesn’t really say much that we haven’t seen them with our own eyes; it doesn’t mean they didn’t stop by. And there’s enough elsewhere to make up for the lack, I promise.

~ Jes

We are in the Philippines

2006-09-14T03:12:00.000-07:00

We made it to the Philippines! We flew for many many hours, okay, more like an entire day, and crossed the international date line, so technically we flew for two days, but we landed safely and made it to the clinic without a problem. It is 4:00 in the morning as I write this, I am of course wide awake since it is 4:00 in the afternoon back in PA. It will take some time to adjust.
Jes and I are so excited to start our time here. We are a little unsure of what it will look like because the clinic has not been relocated as of yet. The government has admitted they shut our clinic down because of pressure from other birthing clinics who didn’t like Mercy In Action helping the poor. Mercy In Action does not charge for their services. The very poor usually come to our clinic because of this, and the other birthing clinics do charge a service fee, and have therefore lost money as a result of our clinic. We have been given the option to move to another location, but this other location would still be under the authority of the Manilla government. This means they could be bribed or pressured into shutting us down again in the future. We are unsure where we will reopen the clinic, but it will hopefully be decided soon.
We don’t have a permanent address yet, but as soon as we do it will be listed on our contact page. Please pray for open doors that lead to the new location of our clinic. We know the Lord has a place for us here, it is just a matter of prayer, waiting, and trust. Thanks.

~Steve

Philippines here we come!

2006-09-09T03:11:00.000-07:00

Well, we fly out in two days. The 12th of September will begin our two day journey across the ocean to the other side of the world. We just said goodbye to Julie, Jessica’s sister who came out to Idaho for a month. She was helping to babysit for a single mother in our program who has four rambunctious boys. We just want to say thanks again Julie for taking a month of your summer to help Suzette and her boys. You rock.
In the meantime, Jes and I are at my brother Jon’s house in Bremerton WA visiting before we leave. Jon is in the Navy so we are taking a few days to say goodbye for the year. We are so excited about this upcoming year, with so many expectations, and so much of the future unknown. As of now, Jes and I will be traveling with the medics for the first month. We are planning to hike through the mountains of the Philippines from village to village setting up medical clinics and feeding programs. We will teach, feed, care for, and love the people we meet. We will not however get to shower, have a consistent meal, or have any amenities of home. We will be nomads. Neither of us know what this will be like, but we are confident the rewards of service will far outweigh the challenges.
After the first month, the plan will be to find an apartment in Manila close to the newly established clinic. As of now the original clinic is still closed but they have given Mercy in Action the option to reopen the clinic in a different location. At this new location Jes and I will try to find some normalcy of life with an apartment and hopefully internet so we can communicate with you all. Obviously for the first month communication will be severely limited.
We want to say thank you to everyone who has been holding us up in prayer and also for those who have begun financial support. If you would like to support us for something specific, our sponsor us page has a list of our needs. If you didn’t get our newsletter and would like to be on our newsletter list please email Jes on our contact page.

-Steve

Good Words

2006-07-29T03:11:00.001-07:00

Food for thought...

From “Winning God’s Way” by Loren Cunningham:

“Keith (Green) said, “It’s not God’ s fault that the world isn’t being won. It’s not His will that any should perish. There’s a little command in the Bible that says, ‘Go ye into all the world and preach the Gospel to every creature.’ We like to think that was for the disciples, for the missionaries, for the old ladies who can’t find husbands that need to bury their troubles on the mission field, or for humanitarians, for real Christians that are so spiritual they can’t stay in society so they go overseas… The world isn’t being won because we’re not doing it. It’s our fault. Nowhere on earth is the Gospel as plentiful as it is here in the United States. You don’t need a call—you’ve already had one. If you stay (in America) you better be able to say to God, “You called me to stay home.” If you don’t have a definite call to stay here, you are called.”
Strong words. But are they true?
There are only 250,000 Protestant and Catholic missionaries trying to reach those who have not yet heard the gospel. And yet there are 1.2 million Avon representatives worldwide and over 750,000 Amway distributors. We have visited remote villages as the very first ones to carry the gospel, and yet we have found Coca-Cola and Singer sewing machines were there ahead of us. Is it God’s will that so many haven’t heard his word yet? Is this the way He planned it? Did he call 94 percent of the full-time ministers to reach 9 percent of the world’s population (those in the English speaking world)? Or did He direct that 92 percent of all Christian finances for evangelism be spent to evangelize the United States where only 8 percent of the world’s population lives…? Even in North America, there are great, gaping holes of spiritual darkness. Most Christian efforts are spent in the areas of greatest Christian population, leaving places like American inner cities with less gospel witness than many mission fields.
You can see something is very much out of balance, and I agree with my friend Keith. It’s not God’s plan for things to remain this way. We have to be willing to answer God’s call and say, “Here am I, Lord, send me-anywhere!” We have to be willing to give up the right to stay at home.”

Deep stuff…

Barbarian

2006-07-29T03:11:00.000-07:00

I have to share with you another excerpt from “The Barbarian Way” by Erwin Raphael McManus, because this book understands me, and it is amazingly great. :)

“Not long ago Aaron asked me, “Dad, would you purposefully put us in danger?”
“Yes,” I answered, “of course.”
Without blinking an eye, his response was simply, “That’s what I thought. I was just making sure.”
I wonder how many of us have actually had this conversation with God: “Abba, Father, Dad, would You purposefully put me in danger?” I think a lot of us haven’t asked God that question because we went ahead and answered it for Him. Of course He wouldn’t do that. We’re His children. We’re family. He wouldn’t purposefully endanger us, not even to accomplish a higher or nobler purpose. Or would He? Maybe you should stop and ask Him. His answer might surprise you. It certainly surprised John the Baptist.
Jesus is telling us in no uncertain terms that there is a battle raging. This is perhaps the most important reason why we must choose the barbarian way and resist any temptation to become civilized. Domesticated Christians are far too willing to abdicate the battle for the soul of the world. Civility focuses our energy in all the wrong places. We spend our lives emphasizing our personal development and spiritual well-being. We build churches that become nothing more than hiding places for the faithful while pretending that our actions are for the good of the world. Or we choose political or secular vehicles to try to advance our cultural values, strangely attempting to make unbelieving people act like civilized believers. In contrast Jesus calls us to a different way. He tells us this is a battle of kingdoms. He insists that if we are His followers, we must not live in a world defined only by the material. To see the kingdom perspective is to know that there is a conflict of invisible kingdoms and that people’s lives are forever changed by what happens in the unseen.

‘For several years we rented a two-story house in Los Angeles. Both my kids spent a good part of their childhood enjoying that home. A unique feature of the house was that a small window from the second story bathroom opened a path to the roof. I always figured there would be a day when one of my kids would climb up on the sink and work his or her way out on to the ledge…. Early one evening Kin and I were in the front yard when all of a sudden, we heard a little voice calling us from the roof. As soon as Kim saw him, her nurturing instinct kicked in and she started commanding him to get back inside. I have to admit I was kind of proud of him right then, but what he did next totally surprised me. Looking past his mom, he asked me if he could jump. When Aaron shouted “Dad, can I jump?” Kim answered on my behalf “No, you can’t jump. Get back inside.” As if he hadn’t heard anything at all, he asked me again, “Dad, can I jump?” Now I know what I was supposed to do. A dad is never supposed to override the mom (I’m working on it). I’m just telling you what really happened. After all, he did ask me. I answered “Yeah, go ahead.”
He said “Really?” I said “Yeah, sure. Go ahead and jump.” Kim looked at me as if I was out of my mind and asked “What do you think you’re doing?” In a sort of explanation I asked Aaron, “Aaron, are you going to jump sometime?” He said, “Yeah, I think so.” I said, “Okay. I’d rather have you jump now so if you jump and break your legs, we can take you to the hospital.” It made perfect sense to me. He responded, “Dad, do you think I’ll make it?” I said, “Oh yeah, you’ll make it.” If I knew one thing for certain, it was that he would reach the ground. I just wasn’t sure in what condition. He said “Ok, I’m going to jump.” I had one suggestion before he took off. I said, “Hey, buddy, try to clear the concrete and land on the grass. It’s softer.” He thought that was a good idea, stepped as far back as he could on the roof, and began running to jump. Just before his first step he yelled, “Dad, catch me,” and I said “I’ll try.”
I almost caught him. It was so close. He just slipped right through my hands. I think I did slow his fall a little bit. In either case, he’s recovered well since then. I’m just kidding. He was fine. (Don’t try this at home.)
I know it’s very unlikely that you will ever invite me to speak at a parenting conference, but hang with me for a moment. From the parenting end, I’ve seen far too many kids raised in Christian homes who are indifferent to Christ and often carry great disdain for the church. Sometimes it’s a result of blatant hypocrisy, but other times it’s the result of nothing less than sheer boredom. We raise our children in the cocoon of domesticated faith and wonder why they run as far as they can to find adventure. A long time ago I decided that would never happen to my children…. How many stories do we need of children who grow up in church being forced to act like Christians rather than being won to the heart of God? Both are an effort to shape our children. The first is an external force; the latter an internal force. The civilized Christian does what is right out of fear; the barbarian Christian does what is right out of love. The Christian civilization is held together by rules and rituals; the barbarian revolt is fueled by the passion of God and guided by the mission of God. If our children are going to walk away from Christ, we need to raise them in such a way that they understand that to walk away from Jesus is to walk away from a life of faith, risk, and adventure and choose a life that is boring, mundane, and ordinary.
For Aaron, the jump was fraught with danger. From my vantage point, I could see, though the jump was terrifying, he would find himself triumphant. It is important that he jumped and perhaps even more important that he knew me as the kind of father who would always call him to greater endeavors rather than send him back to the safe place.
I think God is like that. For too long we’ve been telling followers of Jesus Christ to climb back through the window. Our message is that “God wants to keep you safe.” We can’t even see the importance of growing the courage to jump. But what if our house was on fire? What if Aaron’s only memory was my telling him that he couldn’t do it? What if I had, in that moment, nurtured fear and apprehension? Would he become the kind of person who would die out of fear of trying? What if the courage to jump or the lack of it would be the difference in saving someone else’s life?
It may seem counterintuitive, but the more civilized we become, the more detached from the pain of others we end up finding ourselves….History again and again reveals that we are less likely to do good when we perceive ourselves as part of a larger crowd than when we make the choice to stand alone. When we are in a crowd, we are more prone toward acts of evil or at least compliance to evil. For some reason the civilized can rationalize apathy and feel themselves absolved from personal responsibility. Good needs to be done, but someone else will take care of it.
The barbarian revolt tolerates no such abdication of responsibility. Every citizen in the kingdom of God is brought into the heat of the conflict between good and evil. Everyone who swears allegiance to Christ bears responsibility for humanity. The power and force of the barbarian way are that each one who chooses His path must find the courage to jump.
I wanted my son to have the courage to jump when needed. I am convinced God wants the same thing for us. Is it possible that your Father is also calling you to jump or at least encouraging you to do so? It is the Spirit of god stirring within you, pleading you to stop settling for status quo.”

thanks for reading!
-jes :)

Conversations with Darla

2006-07-29T03:10:00.000-07:00

What a world! Life out here really is amazing. Today we went to feed the homeless in Julia Davis Park. What a fantastic time! The Lord has really given me a true love for people- and not the pity type love, the love that makes people my mission, but rather, the Love of Jesus, that makes people my equal, my friend. With every person that I served a sloppy piece of cake today, my respect and admiration for the poor and homeless grew. These people are so brave, so genuine, considerate, and broken. It is amazing to start seeing people as people. Someone once asked Mother Teresa how she could carry the dying from the streets of Calcutta to her hospital and bandage their oozing, filthy, smelly sores and distorted faces, hug them, hold them tight to her own body, love them so tenderly. She responded “They are Jesus- in a distressing mask.”
I had a really cool conversation today with Darla, a transvestite from southeastern Idaho. We talked about his family life, his relationship with his father, his decision to become a woman, the struggles of his childhood, religion, and God. It was really awesome. He had some incredible insights into the world, things that I don’t understand and have never had to experience. He was such a transparent person, so genuine. I have so much respect for Darla, and his honesty and willingness to be who he feels he is. I do not respect the Enemy who put him in bondage, keeps him confused, and continues to destroy his life. In fact, I hate the enemy, and I vehemently oppose every plan he has for Darla’s life. But—Darla is seeking. And no one seeks without the Father first calling. So Jesus is calling Darla, and I am so excited for him, that he is so desired by God. Please pray with me that Truth will find him, and he will find the real Jesus, not the mean, vindictive, condescending god that he has previously experienced from the Christian community.

On Thursday we had to give each other injections in class. Um… yes. Traumatizing. So I made Steve be my partner, and I gave him two shots, and then he gave me one, and MAN it stung! The actual needle was fine (except that my husband who has never injected anyone was giving it ) but the saline solution he injected was wretched! So then our overseer graciously took the second shot for me—she is a nurse, and it didn’t bother her. What a relief! Ok, so keep praying for us—there are rumors that we have to draw blood in a class coming up! For those of you who may not be familiar- giving a wee injection into the skin or muscle and finding a vein full of blood and plunging a gimungous needle into it are two entirely different beasts—this last week was cake in comparison to what is to come! YIKES! (Fascinating that I, who will be sewing torn skin and giving major injections in just a few months, am being such a weaner about this. Yeah, well.)

The Philippines and other news….
We are going. Yes, indeed, that is, we ARE going to the Phillippines in September. The clinic is still not open, so actually, I only get to go because I am married to Steve, whose medic class remains uninterrupted regardless of the state of the clinic. So he’ll be trekking about the mountains and jungles upon arrival to the Phillippines, and I will be…um, we don’t know. Scott and Vicki (the founders of Mercy in Action, and the people we currently board with) are selling everything and moving to the Phillippines to personally oversee the graduation of all of us displaced midwife students, so they’ll be working on hooking me up with other clinics and other opportunities to do births. But that may not happen until the rest of the midwifery students start arriving, which will be in January, so in the meantime I’ll probably tag along with Steve and the Medics. I’ll also try to get in as much as possible with the Children in Crisis school, who will be working with various organizations who fight sex slavery and free sex slaves. Since that will be our life’s work (for the most part) I will try to make as many connections as possible with women in the trade and those rescued, as well various organizations and safe-houses that shelter rescued women, for future projects that we’ll be working on. I’ll also be doing a ton of bookwork for my midwifery degree. Just a ps- all of this could change any minute, so don’t be too sad it we post something totally different and you get hopelessly confused. So are we. Bring it on!

-jes

Updates

2006-07-17T03:10:00.000-07:00

If you haven’t heard, the birthing clinic in the Philippines has been shut down. The Philippines government came and gave a cease and desist order, citing various and complicated charges, most of which weren’t true. Mercy in Action has a no-bribe policy, and has tried various avenues around bribery to follow through with all the demands of the government, only to find that impossible. Mercy in Action is now working with a Christian lawyer in the Philippines to get some laws changed that will always enable us to practice midwifery for the poor there.
In the meantime, the clinic decided to move all foreign practicing midwives away from the clinic with hopes that the government will let the Filipino women continue to give free care to the poor. You cannot imagine how hard it is when a woman and her poor husband show up at the door at two in the morning saying, “Please help us, all the other hospitals turned us away because we don’t have enough money.” Right now our midwives have to find a way to tell the sobbing husbands, “I’m sorry, we can’t help you, the government won’t let us, you will have to go somewhere else.” The horrible reality is that there is nowhere else. These people have to go home, or have their baby in the streets . . . Please pray that the clinic will be reopened.
What does this mean for us? We don’t know. We will finish our schooling here in Idaho at the end of August, and in September we are supposed to go to the Philippines for the year. We pray in faith that the Lord will work this out to His glory, and we are open to whatever possibilities Mercy in Action endorses. We will certainly finish the program, but perhaps not in the timing or location we originally planned. We are not worried about what might happen; we are learning a great deal of flexibility and are truly enjoying the ride! As soon as we know more we will post the news here on the blog.
Please continue to pray for us, and especially, pray that it would be established in the courts and in the law that volunteering midwives and medics can practice for free, and that this legal process would happen in a timely manner.
We love you all.

Bringing Friends Together

2006-07-11T03:09:00.000-07:00

Today we went to an abortion rally at the state capital building, Boise ID. My attitude was not the best as we stood there in the heat. Then all of a sudden I spotted Joshua Smoker, a friend of mine from Potter County standing by my wife. I moved up and gave him a hug, finding out he was there with a traveling prayer ministry called “The Cause” going to each state capital to pray over the state. We talked and marveled at how the Lord brought two people from little old Potter county together in Boise ID. We literally live right next to each other. When we step out our door their house is the only house we see. That is because there are only four houses in the entire valley of Morley Rd where we live. After the prayer time Joshua and his two friends, David, and Aysha wanted to pray for Jes and I. In a moments time the Lord spoke through them and brought new spiritual life to Jes and I. We have been feeling confused, and take off course for a long time. God’s timing is perfect. Their prayers broke through that bondage and spoke truth into our lives. It was more than amazing. I write this the same night and my heart longs more then ever to be placed on Christ alone without distraction. This is just a shout out to Joshua, David, and Aysha . . . Thank You.

-Steve.

Giving It All

2006-06-25T03:08:00.000-07:00

I am so amazed at how seriously we take ourselves. In every Christian circle I have been in, until now, there is a level of transparency that can be reached, and then, you just go no further, whether it be in a discipleship group, accountability relationship, whatever. This is the way of the Church—after all, we don’t want to look any worse than the person next to us, who is saying nothing about his sin and too much about how great and faithful and stable he is. And so the deepest, darkest, and most sinful places are never openly dealt with. We never expose the depravity of our hearts, that we are ignorant, mistrusting of God’s intentions toward us, and deeply, painfully sinful and shattered. It seems the closest we get to the sin topic is making generalities about our sin, minimizing it, or covering it in “the Lord is working on me about….” Where are the details, friends?!? Where are the servant leaders who are direct, open, VERY clear and detailed about how and with what they sin? Where are the leaders without pride, who refuse to live the life of the Pharisee and teach their people to hide their deepest sins?
They are here. And after seeing this leadership, and responding in brokenness, something about living any other way than in the reality of who we really are as Christian sinners is hypocritical and gross. Why can’t I be real with those I love? Why can’t I be real even with everyone? It is because I’m too proud—too proud to look like a “bad Christian”—too proud to look like a real, bona fide sinner. What I actually am is too proud to look like Jesus, too proud to admit my failures and all my weaknesses in front of everybody, too proud to stain my own reputation. I am a Pharisee. God forgive me for the need to look good, or at least to not look very sinful, at any time, ever. No wonder the world hates Christians. We think we need to look like we have it together, though that false perfection drives the world away from the love of a very real Jesus. So we keep the worst of our sin hidden, out of sight, and we rate people-- somewhere between the most holy (Pastors, Christian authors and speakers, Christians that we admire and respect), and the downright, obviously sinful (disobedient or unruly children (and what are we??), alcoholics, gay people, rapists, etc). And we think of ourselves as falling somewhere in between, and strive to get to a ‘higher level.’ Note to self: ALL have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God.
I am amazed that for so long I have lived in the bondage of caring about the opinions of people, of striving so hard to look like Jesus and in that, trying so hard to not look like a sinner. But I am a sinner. (shocking, I know ) And you know what? I am a real, evil, sinful, bona fide bad sinner. In fact, if you want to know the details, I will gladly tell you all of the disgusting things in my heart, because I am no longer afraid to tell you that I am really, really saved only by His awesome grace and not by my evil, shabby, prideful works. This is a life that is actually freeing—I think it’s what Jesus meant for his kids, rather than the life of ‘even if you sin all the time (read: you are a real person) pretend in front of people that it doesn’t happen, because you’re supposed to look like Jesus.’ So here’s the truth—that’s bondage and lies. The reality is, I am NO better than the worst person ever, and I MUST- in order to be free of my own pride- be shockingly honest about the graphic details of my motives and my sin—as in tell people. Because telling people how gross you are kind of wrecks your pride. But if we would be real with ourselves- we are all in need of a good pride-wrecking. It would change us, reform us. Maybe we would look at our children as people who mess up, no better or worse than us. Maybe we would have mercy on those in lifestyles that we don’t understand or disagree with, and we wouldn’t turn our faces from the downtrodden, the poor, the neglected, or the person who hurt us. Maybe we would actually look like Jesus.

The Barbarian Way

2006-06-25T03:07:00.000-07:00

Just an excerpt from a wonderful book that we’re reading in school, called “The Barbarian Way” by Erwin McManus. So beautifully captures the heart of who we are and what we mean by all of this. A second note on best books ever—please, please read
“Terrify No More” by Gary Haugen. Back to The Barbarian Way:

“The invitation of Jesus is a revolutionary call to fight for the heart of humanity. We are called to an unconventional war using only the weapons of faith, hope, and love. Nevertheless, this war is no less dangerous than any war ever fought. And for those of us who embrace the cause of Christ, the cost to participate in the mission of God is nothing less than everything we are and everything we have.
Strangely enough, though, some who come to Jesus Christ seem to immediately and fully embrace this barbarian way. They live their lives with every step moving forward and with every fiber of their being fighting for the heart of their King. Jesus Christ has become an all-consuming passion in their lives. They are not about religion or position. They have little patience for institutions or bureaucracies. Their lack of respect for tradition or ritual makes them seem uncivilized to those who love religion… they are not about religion; they’re about advancing the revolution that Jesus started two thousand years ago.
This is the simplicity of the barbarian way. If you are a follower of Christ, then you are called to fight for the heart of your King. It is a life fueled by passion—a passion for God and a passion for people. When Christianity becomes just another religion, it focuses on requirements. Just to keep people in line, we build our own Christian civilization and then demand that everyone who believes in Jesus become a good citizen.
It’s hard to imagine that Jesus would endure the agony of the cross just to keep us in line. Jesus began a revolution to secure our freedom. The new covenant that He established puts its trust not in the law, but in the transforming power of God’s Spirit living within us.
My daughter, Mariah, and I were eating Thai food in San Diego. We were getting some important dad-and-daughter time. She began to open her heart and bring me into her dreams. “Daddy, one day I want to make a billion dollars, and I want to give it all away. I want to help the poor; I want to help the needy. I want to make a billion dollars, and I don’t care if I have nothing, but I want to give it all to help people.”
As I was listening to her dream, I thought I can fix this. Because the dream was almost right. But she kept saying, “I want to make a billion dollars and give it away and help the poor, and I don’t care if I’m homeless or have nothing. I just want to give it away to help people.”
I said “Mariah, I want you to make a billion dollars and give to the poor and needy; but it’s not a good idea that you have nothing. Then you would be needy and somebody would have to take care of you and you wouldn’t be responsible.”
“I don’t care if I don’t have anything, Daddy,” Mariah responded. “I just want to make a billion dollars and give it away. I don’t care if I’m homeless. I don’t care if I have nothing.”
“But if you’re homeless, our taxes would have to pay for you.”
Looking at me as if to say Daddy, you just don’t understand, she continued. “I don’t care if I have nothing. I just want to make a billion dollars and give it all away. I don’t care if I have nothing.”
I thought, Okay, I’m not really helping here. I was trying to help her understand that she needed to keep something, restructure it, and reinvest it so that she could make another billion and help another group of people. I just wasn’t able to help her with her dream.
I knew I wasn’t making progress. We left the place and went to the car. I unlocked it, and she got into the car quickly. By the time I slid into the driver’s seat, she was sobbing, and I didn’t know what was going on. I asked, “Mariah, are you okay?”
Just drenched in tears, she looked at me and said “Daddy, I want to change the world, but you can’t appreciate my dream. I want to change the world.” She continued, “I didn’t say I would be homeless; I said I didn’t care if I became homeless. I want to change the world. Can’t you just hear my dream?”
I realized that instead of nurturing and unleashing the dream being born out of her heart for God, I was domesticating her dream and trying to civilize her raw and untamed faith, which was ironic since I was so excited that this was her heart.
“Well honey, I am excited about your dream.” I said. “Don’t you think that we were a small part of trying to nurture your heart to have that dream?” She said, “Yeah, but I don’t think you’re getting it.”
I said, “Well, I get it now. I get it now.”
It took me a little while, but suddenly I saw it clearly. I was experiencing a barbarian invasion. Mariah’s heart was beating to the rhythm of the heart of God. And her dreams were way too raw for me. I didn’t see it initially, but I was trying to civilize her instead of unleashing the untamed faith within her. After all, I am her dad. It’s okay if I live a life of irrational faith and breathtaking adventure. I want something different for her. I want her to have security and safety—you know, a predicable, boring, mundane life where I never have to worry about her again. In that moment I realized Mariah would have none of that. For her there was only one path. Even at twelve she has already committed to it. Be still my heart, but my daughter has chosen the barbarian way out of civilization.”

Camping Trip

2006-06-19T03:07:00.000-07:00

The camping trip was a lot of fun. We spent a long time reading our materials and studying, but we also took a long hike, and had a chance to talk about ministry with the others students. We finished a book called Bruchko, which is about a missionary, Bruce Olsen, who went to the most dangerous tribe in Latin America. It was awesome! If any of you need a good book to read I highly recommend it. I’m still working on an interactive blog so you can get in and type on the site, but it is slow in coming. Keep checking back.

School Begins

2006-06-14T03:07:00.000-07:00

School has begun. First we would like to shout out to all of you back home and say thanks for praying for traveling mercies, the Lord got us here without any problems. And thanks for checking back to our website. We will be adding more blogs now that we have consistent internet. We miss you all so much.

Well, everyone here seems really awesome, very willing to help and always lifting you up. We have been given our first reading assignments and we can tell already that we are going to be working very hard. This used to be a 6 month course that is now packed into about a month and a half. Yeah, kinda crazy. What makes this school so great is they focus a lot on discipleship as well as the medical training. So we spend a lot of time growing together. This weekend we go on a camping trip to orient ourselves to the other people in the class. Should be fun.

This Morning

2006-06-08T03:06:00.000-07:00

Stayed up until 6 am this morning, reading about the sex slave trade. Kind of random, I know. It’s horrific what you can find by typing a few letters into Google. Terrifying actually. And far more terrifying is how very few people even know anything, much less are doing anything, about the most heinous crime against women and children in the history of the world. Did you know that there are 27 million slaves in the world? There are more slaves now that at any other time in history. Did you know that the rape, torture, and forced prostitution of young women and girls the world over (including a shocking amount in the US) accounts for at least 200 billion dollars of the worlds’ revenue per year? This makes human trafficking one of the most profitable-and therefore the fastest growing-criminal trade in the world.
It is horrific what you can find on a Google search.
Amazingly enough, though, very few people even know that hundreds of sex slaves are beaten and raped into submission in our very own hometowns, in our quiet suburban neighborhoods, and even more so in the big beautiful cities next door that we love to visit. At least 20,000 women are imported into the US each year to work as slaves. I am incredulous that this happens constantly, that hundreds of thousands of victims and their pimps breathe the same air as we do, stand in front of us in line at the grocery store, and we are none the wiser. Even worse, we are at a loss as to how to help sex slaves even when we do find out.
Thinking a lot about this morning. There is one prominent thought. This is not an issue I will sit down and shut up about anytime soon. Also, this is a dangerous, uphill battle to join, as there is such insurmountable need, such widespread apathy and ignorance, dangerous people involved in extremely well organized and brutal crime, and governments (including our own) who refuse to protect victims because of the incredible revenue the human sex trafficking brings to their economies as well as the number of top government officials actually involved in the sexual exploitation of women. (And when I say women, I mean girls of all ages, from 18 months old to late twenties, the majority being between the ages of 10 and 23, from all over the world, including young Americans.) Thinking about this….
I found this song running through my head, and I want to share it with you, as it is, I think, stuck permanently in my head, my heart, and our mission. Thanks for listening, and for listening, I mean caring. These girls need the free girls to stand up for them, rewrite their story, one beautiful soul at a time.

Tonight I forgot a line in the play that you and I
Have been rehearsing since the day we met
It made me put down my script, made me look around a bit
And wonder how we came to play these roles

I'm here to re-write this tragedy
One line at a time
Hold on, I'm changing all the scenery
It's okay we'll be fine
Cause we know how this ends

Sometimes it's hard to tell what to keep and what to kill
What of this makes us who we are
All that we love the most, all that we cannot let go
How much of change can we survive

I'm here to re-write this tragedy
One line at a time
Hold on, I'm changing all the scenery
It's okay we'll be fine
Cause we know how this ends
We know there's a better story

There's a better story
Of true love
Of true grace
There's the hope of glory
And our first chance to be truly brave
It's the place we're going
When we can't stay where we are

Come on, let’s re-write this tragedy
One line at a time
Hold on, we’re changing all the scenery
It's okay we'll be fine
Cause we know how this ends

We know there's a better story

Written by Sarah Groves

-j

Almost There

2006-06-04T03:06:00.000-07:00

Jes and I are less then a week from the beginning of school. We have really seen the Lord provide through our friends and family as we travel. Thank you all for your support, especially to those who kept us company on our very long drives. Our accommodations have been very wet as we have been camping a lot to keep travel costs down. Still, the country is beautiful and at least for Steve, everything west of Ohio is brand new. Soon the site will be changing as we get to school and update the info. Love you all.

S & J.

On the Road

2006-05-17T03:05:00.000-07:00

Hey Everybody!
We made it!!! After a hectic but fabulous few weeks of packing and moving and saying goodbyes, we’re on the road, en route to Idaho! It’s been a few loooong days of driving, with more than a few of the same to come, but I love this beautiful country so much, it’s hard to keep my eyes on the road while I’m at the wheel! And this is Steve’s first time seeing most of the states we’re passing through, so it’s awesome to enjoy this trip with him. Being in a car for many hours driving (very straight, very flat) interstates has given me a bit of time to breathe and think about what we’re heading into, and also, what we’ve come from. And the more I thought about that, the more I thought about what an amazing, beautiful, and generous group of people we’ve left behind. Please know how deep a place you each hold in our hearts; we have been absolutely blessed and encouraged by each of you in various ways. Thank you so much for keeping up with us, and we really want to keep in touch with you! On that note, we would love to hear from you, hear about life on your side of the world. Please feel free to email us, and we will do our best to get back to you as soon as we can. Thank you, thank you, dear friends and family. We love you so much and miss you already! We’ll blog again soon!

2006-04-22T02:25:00.000-07:00

Well, nothing too exciting yet, Jessica and I are packing our stuff, saying our goodbyes, and looking for people who are called to support us. There is much to be done, and little time to do it, but we all know the Lord is in control. Thanks for looking.

Steve.