Category Archives: Teaching

Child/Youth Leadershp, Community Life, God At Work Among Us, Homeschool, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Personal Reflection, Teaching

A Most Unusual Butt-Chewing

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Yesterday morning something rather peculiar happened on a lone side street in our rural neighborhood.

Yesterday (Monday) was the first day of an intensive two-week academic catch-up program for our high school students who, even after nearly a year of being under our care, are still experiencing the effects of the incredibly weak academic foundation they brought with them from their experiences in the local public elementary schools.

My husband and I have felt a lot of hype building up to these two weeks of intensive tutoring sessions for our weakest students as we are excited to be able to focus exclusively on those who are in most dire need of help. (Our six academically sound students who passed our 7th-grade program with no problems began their school vacation as of yesterday while the seven who need additional help will be coming for the next two weeks.)

Darwin would be teaching classes on Monday while Miss Ligia, the official 7th grade teacher, would be helping paint the entryway and bathroom of our little high school building. Everyday we would be taking turns between Darwin, Miss Ligia and myself.

Well, 7:00am rolled around and Darwin took attendance (which is extremely easy to do when the group is so small and you intimately know each person!). One of our teenage boys (the one whom I wrote about in the previous blog who shared his testimony in the Christian Leadership class) wasn’t present. I asked the other students if they knew why he hadn’t shown up – please tell me he’s on his deathbed or got an emergency call from China to travel on business! – as one of our other boys shrugged and said he had seen his classmate moping around his family’s porch that morning while the rest of the students began their walk up that long gravel road to our home.

I was alarmed that our M.I.A. student decided to play hookie on such an important day – their performance (and most importantly attendance!) during this two-week intensive program would determine whether or not they passed 7th grade! I thought he had matured quite a bit. Well, I mean, he definitely had. But why would he pull a no-show on the first day? How many times do I need to be reminded that the process of transformation is just that – a process. Everything takes time.

I felt disappointed, as I had sincerely been rooting for the kid to make a big, last-minute redemption of the school year and finish strong.

I shook it off and continued getting all the household business in order before I could leave in our old truck to spend the day in town working on the computer and running errands.

About an hour later as everything was finally in place and I rolled out the front gate, I felt God calling me to pass by our rogue student’s home and see what had happened, why he wasn’t in class. This certainly wouldn’t be the first time we’ve made a house call to go chase down run-away students (See: By God’s Design: Zebras in Honduras), but in my heart I felt as though I shouldn’t have to do so, that by golly he should have just pulled himself up by the bootstraps and gotten his little bum to class on time just like everyone else.

As I rumbled down that rocky road that passes through the little neighborhood where the majority of our students live, I finally gave in and turned the steering wheel down the narrow side road that leads to his home. Yes; God’s will is always greater than my own, and, yes, this young man was going to receive a loving house-call even though he probably didn’t deserve it because we’ve all received a free salvation that we most definitely don’t deserve.

I pulled to a stop a couple paces in front of his house and, suddenly experiencing an unexpected surge of energy and God-given joy, hopped out of the car as several neighbors whom I don’t know observed me carefully from a distance. I threw up my arm in a generous wave and sent them enthusiastic verbal greetings through a big smile, which threw them off as they, in turn, decided to greet me warmly.

I approached the small gate to our student’s home and called a general good-morning greeting through the thin curtain that hung in the front doorway.

Very quickly our student’s older sister, who happens to be the mother of another one of our students, came out to greet me with a big smile and, of course, she immediately knew why I was there. She began rattling off all that had happened that morning – the misunderstandings, the bad attitudes, the self-pity – and that, despite her incessant scolding of her younger brother as she tried to get his butt up and off to school, he wouldn’t budge. He was discouraged and had decided that it wasn’t worth going.

In a culture/neighborhood that is steeped in very low self-esteem and almost zero perseverance, a story such as this one is no longer surprising to me. What is surprising is that God is granting me a healthy dose of compassion for these youth who I used to think just needed a swift kick in the rear and a thorough butt-chewing.

I smiled genuinely as I listened to his very well-intentioned sister. When she started to lose a bit of steam, I asked if I could talk with her brother. He is, after all, 15 years old and should very well be present if and when any butt-chewing should occur.

I caught her off guard when I asked to speak face-to-face with the culprit (aren’t we all used to just getting riled up and gossiping without reaching any kind of actual conclusion?), and she immediately called her little brother’s name three times (really loudly) before he finally appeared from behind the front door’s curtain.

I smiled big when I saw him (He came out! He didn’t hide and refuse to show his face! Let’s count that as a victory! Atta boy!), and he returned the smile, although it was obviously tainted with a bit of shame for having skipped out on a very important responsibility that we are both directly involved in.

I spent a moment or two saying with great sincerity things that have been said to this precious young man dozens of times before: “You can do this. Don’t give up. We truly love and treasure you and are committed to doing everything possible to see you succeed, but you’ve also got to do your part. We love you and really do miss you when you don’t show up.”

In our first couple years of this ministry to broken youth, I thought it absurd and entirely unnecessary that we found ourselves saying the same things over and over to the same people day after day. Can you say ‘broken record’? Can you say ‘broken record’? How many times do we have to reiterate that we love the person, that we believe God has a plan for their life? How many times do we have to give the same advice to someone before they actually believe us, before they put it into action?

My thought on this has changed drastically over the last couple months as the Lord has revealed to me that I, too, have heard the same things over and over for years, and I am still slow to believe. How many times have I read, heard – preached! – that God is love and that He truly loves each one of us enough to have sent Christ to reconcile us with Himself, adopt us as His very own sons and daughters, heirs to an eternal Kingdom brimming with life, justice and joy, and even so in my heart I doubt, think Surely His love is for others, but not for me. It’s too good to be true. Oh, truly I am just like this immature young man, for I must hear the same things over and over again for years, and even so I struggle to receive, to rest in the truth.

And so, before much more time passed, I layed out my ultimatum with intense eyes and joy permeating my voice: “Look, if you don’t go get your butt ready to go to school, I’m gonna start dancing right here in the middle of the street until you get really embarrassed and decide to get ready.”

I had no idea where that came from (I’ve definitely never said anything like that before), and his older sister, very enthusiastic to support any butt-chewing I might be handing out, let out an immediate, “Yeah! You heard her!” before her face contorted oddly, finally realizing the absurdity of what I had said. Huh?

They suddenly both looked at me, eyes ablaze with wonder – was this tall, gangly white woman who is crazy about telling others about God really about to start dancing in public? It couldn’t be so.

To erase any doubt from their minds, I bowed low in a dramatic, silly curtsy and began thrusting my long arms to one side and the other, an undoubtedly awkward mixture of ‘groovy’ and ‘ridiculous.’

I spun in large circles and began some strange combination of fancy footwork that in no way kept the same beat as my wild arm motions.

A small boy on a bicycle rode by me on the street and nearly fell off as his eyes widened and his head swiveled around, unable to believe what he was seeing.

The neighbor ladies who had carefully observed and then greeted me only minutes prior also watched from a distance, alerted by the extremely joyful behavior being displayed. Who on earth would dance so freely – and so terribly! – on their street, especially in the face of such circumstances that typically provoke despair? Why, I must be crazy (or have a hope for this young man that goes beyond the despair of this world.)

My smile grew wider and wider as I informed our beloved student: “You see, I’m gonna keep dancing until you go get ready for school. Yup, I’m gonna keep on embarrassing you…”

Both our student and his adult sister laughed out loud, their eyes aglow with wonder – what an incredibly unusual butt-chewing! – as they watched me from but a couple yards away in their desolate front yard.

I only had to dance another ten seconds or so before he finally nodded his head, fully convinced that I would gladly continue my uncoordinated interpretive dancing until he really did get his butt ready for school.

I gave his sister another big, warm hug and laughed all the way to the car as I then continued on with my errands as planned.

That evening as my husband – who had been the one to give classes that morning while I had been away running errands – and I were talking over dinner, I asked him if our no-show student had arrived after all for his classes. He confirmed that he certainly did arrive and had a fabulous attitude throughout the day.

As Darwin continued to talk to me about that morning’s events in the classroom, he mentioned that it was curious that when the young man arrived late for class, he came through the front door not angry or ashamed but rather with a very innocent grin on his face. Why would that be?

I bit my lip and asked, “…Did he tell you how I convinced him to come to school…?”

Amen! Glory to God!

Bible study, Child/Youth Leadershp, Community Life, God At Work Among Us, Homeschool, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Primary School, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Marriage, Personal Reflection, Prayer Requests, Teaching

My Efforts (In Vain) to Move the Rescue Shop Farther from Hell

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A few days ago my husband and I travelled to three of the public elementary schools in our rural town to announce in the sixth grade classrooms (the last grade in elementary school according to the Honduran educational system) the opportunity to study in our discipleship-based high school on the 7th-grade level.

Last November was our first time to travel to local schools making the general invitation as we groped around in the dark, seeking God’s will in an extremely new endeavor and rather daringly inviting others to follow as we designed a new homeschool-style high school for a small group of local students.

Having roughly a year of experience under our belts (and many, many trip-ups and lessons learned the hard way), this time we began making the rounds at the local elementary schools with a sense of familiarity. Many of the students at the schools we would be going to are younger siblings of the teenagers who are currently in our program.

As we parked our old Toyota pickup truck (which is becoming quite well-known in our small town) in front of each of the schools, asked permission from the watchman to enter the front gate, and walked across dirt playgrounds teeming with children to visit overpopulated open-air classrooms, certain thoughts streamed uninvited through our minds as we observed our surroundings:

In these public elementary schools, so many of the students don’t learn anything. Look! There are kids wandering aimlessly about everywhere. Do they ever receive actual classes?  It seems like they are always canceling class because the teachers don’t show up. Over there! Pre-teens holding hands inappropriately; young men rubbing up against young women; teachers sitting around doing nothing. Kids in deep poverty tapping away on expensive cell phones; trash littered everywhere.

A sense of despair almost palpable (moreso in certain public schools than in others), our thoughts next wandered to our own experiences…

How many of the students who study in our home who came to us from these same public schools got up to fifth, sixth, seventh grade without having learned basic math and writing skills? Oh, the struggles we’ve had with our students this year of breaking all the bad habits they brought with them! How grueling the war has been that we’ve waged so that 15- and 17-year-old students might learn the multiplication tables, something they should have learned years ago!  Oh, our students who came to us with devastatingly low self-esteem and an immaturity that’s off the charts! Teenagers who haven’t learned to look you in the eyes; young lives already heavily tainted by lies, theft and a consuming sense of despair. 15-year-olds who behave like 6-year-olds! Everything’s upside down! Many of our 7th-grade students arrived at our home in February on about a second- or third-grade academic level… 

And now we’re out here in the educational wilderness looking for more to add to the growing bunch…

I sighed. Please, God, send us good students this year. (Or at least students who have a concept of the times tables and have enough self-discipline to arrive at school everyday…) The difficult ones are just too much work!

As Darwin and I passed by classroom after classroom, we peered inside to see children standing up, hitting one another, or altogether leaving the classroom without permission. I glanced overhead and saw a hand-decorated poster that seemed to be a bright spot in the midst of the chaos: the honor roll. The poster had a small handful of students’ names written in perfectly-cut stars that had then been glued onto the clean poster board.

A sense of dread filling in my chest at the possibility of receiving a whole new batch of woefully behind, undisciplined students at the start of our new school year in February (the Honduran educational calendar finishes in November and begins again in February), I laughed sarcastically and elbowed my husband: “Hey, we should jot down the names of the honor roll kids and then invite only them into our program!”

Immediately as the words escaped my mouth, I repented of having fallen once more into the trap of yearning for ‘easy’ and ‘nice,’ of essentially turning our back on those who most desperately need the loving, edifying environment that our home offers; the message of salvation that is daily proclaimed.

Jesus came not for the well, but for the sick; not for the ‘good’ people, but for the ‘bad.’ He spent time with the prostitutes, thieves and sinners! Who am I to want to hide out with the healthy people — the nice ones, the pretty ones! — who’ve got it all together? Oh, Lord, forgive me once more.

How many times has our Father confirmed that our home is not to be a hide-out for ‘good’ people but rather a daring rescue mission within a yard of hell? Thank You for stationing us here within a yard of the flames even though so many times in my selfishness I’d like to move this rescue shop a little bit farther into safe territory. A rescue shop within a hundred miles of hell sounds a bit more appealing, or better yet within a yard of heaven.

Oh, but the ‘bad youth’ are the ones He’s specifically chosen to find Him through us! This is our cross to bear.

My mind immediately snapped into focus as I remembered last Tuesday afternoon when we had our last Christian Leadership class of the year.

For one last time (until February when the new school year starts up again) each person passed to the front of the class to share a personal testimony — something the Lord is doing in their lives, something they’ve learned recently from Scripture, etc. We began implementing this activity into the weekly class as a way of truly developing the participants into active leaders who are always prepared to explain the hope that they have in Christ.

One by one each person passed up to the front with a maturity, a dignity that had not been present but a few months ago. A sense of God’s presence fell over our little classroom as each person assumed a vulnerability that had not yet been expressed.

A 15-year-old young man in our 7th-grade program — the same young man whom in my heart I had scoffed at when I realized he had signed up for a Christian Leadership course! (See: Unlikely Disciples) — took his turn at the front. Sure enough, he had not dropped out of the intensive course but had faithfully attended since July along with the rest of this ragtag band of disciples that surely any ‘wise’ person would not have chosen for a leadership class.

He passed up to the front, the rest of us seated in the students’ desks. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other and adjusted his white uniform’s collar. I could tell he was nervous, but it wasn’t due to the fact that he had to speak in front of the group. We had all been speaking in front of one another in this way, giving testimonies and teaching Scripture together for many months. I sensed he was nervous because what he was about to share would be extremely personal, a little too close to home.

He began, and he went way over the at-least-a-minute-or-two time suggestion as his voice softly trembled, his words carefully chosen and said with great sincerity. His large, wide eyes were alert and joyful. He began sharing with us — in his own words — the transformation that I believe everyone around him had already noticed.

“Before I began studying here, I was…so disrespectful. My mom would talk to me and tell me to stay at home, and I would just thrown up my arm and storm out, going to the river or just wandering around the neighborhood aimlessly, day after day…”

I remembered, for his story is always very present in my thoughts. His parents had kicked him out of the home the year prior, had sent him off to another town to live with his uncle and do manual work after he had dropped out of the public high school and got mixed up with the wrong crowd.

“But this year, I’ve learned about Christ. I feel that I’ve learned so much, and, what He wants from me –”

His eyes light up even more and a big smile overtakes his face: ” — is that I follow Him.”

He continued onward as everyone else remained in a respectful silence, eyes locked on his (another triumph that has been fiercely battled for and won among rogue, undisciplined youth!)

He confessed that at the beginning of this school year he had been so disrespectful of his teacher, Miss Ligia. He stopped suddenly, smiled shyly and glanced across the room at her. She returned the smile, for she, too, was about to share a testimony of God’s transformative power in her own life.

This brave young man with his rockin’ teenagery haircut in his daily school uniform continued, as he laughed and said, “I mean, at the beginning of the school year I didn’t even know the times tables. Someone could ask me 3 X 4, and I wouldn’t know the answer. And, I mean, that’s the easiest one! All throughout elementary school when I was younger I was so undisciplined, and I didn’t want to learn anything. I would just go around bullying everyone and messing around…”

He continued onward, talking easily about the impact our twice-weekly Bible studies have had in his life as he’s come to learn about God’s will, His perfect love. He spoke also of his participation in Miss Isis’ prayer group.

As his very sincere, powerful confession of God’s grace in his life came to an apparent close, he hesitated. It was as if a part of the story was missing, but he wasn’t sure if it was too dangerous to share. He looked at me, and I sensed I knew what he was going to say.

Seeing as no one had yet to make fun of him for his daring testimony in this roomful of ‘sick’ people who’ve come to be healed by the Savior, he took the risk. “There’s…one more thing. Last year.”

The room suddenly felt heavy. I definitely knew what he was going to say. “Last year…when some of my friends and I came up to the Living Waters Ranch…to steal. I was involved, so I was guilty too. The cops came and took us to the station in La Ceiba. And…Darwin arrived and he gave me really pivotal advice, told me to seek God. And…now I truly feel that God is transforming me. I’m not the same anymore.”

Many in the room probably had no idea what he was talking about while others knew too well as he continued valiantly talking about his participation in the robbery that happened last August on my birthday. (See: Justice in a Lawless Land)

My heart felt heavy with joy as the young man before us finished his testimony and sat down quietly. Before I knew it another one was standing up, sharing a strikingly similar testimony of salvation and life — life abundant! joy! — found in Christ. Here. In our midst, in these little melon-colored houses at the end of that long gravel road.

Lord, please forgive me for wanting ‘easy,’ for wanting to surround myself with polished people, with those who have it all together. Thank You for bringing these broken, lost young men to our home, to learn of You and to be transformed.  And thank You for transforming me in the process, for renewing this hardened hart of mine and for utilizing me in the midst of this great rescue mission You are performing all around the globe. Lord, may You continue to be glorified in and through us, and may You grant us the strength to remain faithful to the calling You’ve given us.

Amen! Glory to God!

Bible study, Child/Youth Leadershp, Family, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Music, Personal Reflection, Prayer Requests, Teaching

September 2016 Updates and Prayer Requests

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Trip to Capital City of Tegucigalpa with Three of Our Girls, Final Papers Signed to Receive Honduran Residency Status

This month I took three of our girls — Sandra (16), Jackeline (12) and Josselyn (12) — with me on a three-day trip to the nation’s capital as I signed the final papers to officially receive my Honduran residency after nearly four years of active waiting. We had a wonderful time together as our girls travelled out of our immediate region for the first time in their lives. We visited a zoo, a national park, Honduras’ first children’s museum, and the national university in addition to meeting together each morning as a family in the small hotel cafeteria to study God’s Word together. [The photos included in this post were taken on our trip.]
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Sandra (16) and Josselyn (12) feeling nervous on their first professional bus ride! We arrived at the capital 7 hours later!

 

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I tired them out as we walked all around Honduras’ largest university for several hours! Jackeline commented, “I don’t think I want to study here in the future…There are too many stairs!”

 

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Josselyn and I “communicating” on our fake cell phones (blocks of wood) as we waited for the children’s museum to open.

 

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Learning to use a microscope for the first time

 

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It was our girls’ first time to visit a zoo and see animals like lions, ostriches and alligators in person!

Darwin’s Youth Choir Sang at His Family Members’ Memorial Service

After the murder of Darwin’s brother and the death of his mother earlier this month (See: Worshipping Death: What Happens When We Reject the Life-Giver), a couple weeks ago the young men and women in Darwin’s youth choir piled into our truckbed and headed for the memorial service. Under Darwin’s direction, they sang songs and hymns of praise as they sought to worship God even in the midst of tragedy. The majority of Darwin’s family members are not believers and have been deeply shaken by the sudden loss of two family members. We thank God that Darwin has taken the initiative to speak words of life and Truth into the lives of his brothers and sisters as they seek to cope.

 

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Experiencing the digestive system as never before! Our girls entered the “mouth” as food, went down the throat slide, passed through the intestines and came out the other end! As Jackeline came crawling out the tube that represented the waste chute, she crinkled her nose and announced with disgust, “Now I’m poo!”

 

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Sandra on the bed of nails

 

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They loved the museum’s costume area! What a cute pirate!

 

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Jackeline and Josselyn enjoying a large, modern playground for the first time

 

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Jackeline inside of the large nose at the children’s museum! While we were all inside of it, it sneezed and big fans turned on!

Meeting Held with Local Students’ Parents, Plans Being Made for Next Year

Last week Darwin hosted an open meeting for the parents of the students who study at the Living Waters Ranch as ideas were exchanged and plans were put into prayer for the following year. It seems that the parents who attended the meeting are very pleased with the results they are seeing in their children and are planning on keeping them enrolled in our discipleship-based program next school year, which begins in February 2017. Please pray with us as many decisions are involved as we continually seek God’s will and direction for the program.
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Honduras’ first children’s museum gave our girls many fun experiences they had never before dreamed of!

 

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Watch out! Here she comes!

 

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Watch out, Jackeline — Sandra’s gaining on you!

 

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They loved the bubble room!

 

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Jackeline wobbling her way across a fun bridge!

 

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Josselyn and Sandra in the media room

 

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Our “big girls” enjoyed the children’s museum as if they were little kids because they had never experienced anything like it before!

 

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Weekly Schedule Altered to Allow Darwin and I to Dedicate More Time Teaching in the Primary and Secondary Schools

After a period of discernment with two of our Honduran teachers, we were able to change the weekly ‘flow’ of activities to allow Darwin and I to both teach one day per week in elementary (8 students) and one day in secondary (13 students). In prior months our time had largely been consumed with errands and administrative work, which took away from our hands-on time with the students. Praise God that two of our teachers now spend two days a week helping out tremendously with the errands and office work while Darwin and I are able to get our hands dirty in the classroom, loving the children and teaching them God’s ways. In the 3-4 weeks since we have made this change, we have seen very positive results as God is allowing us to bring new energy into the classroom and we are deepening our relationships with the kids in our program for God’s glory.
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The best part about our trip to the children’s museum was that we got to climb on a several-stories-tall representation of a sugar molecule!

 

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If our girls acted like little kids at the museum, so did I!

 

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 Amen! Glory to God!

 

Bible study, Child/Youth Leadershp, Community Life, Family, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Personal Reflection, Teaching

Learning to be Effective Communicators: Lights, Cameras, Action!

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Yesterday in our 7th-grade classroom I gave a workshop on body language, active listening skills, and conflict mediation. What started off as many points jotted down and enthusiastically explained on the whiteboard quickly turned into a riotous time of skits, partner work, and dynamic learning as we explored new territory on how to be more effective (and compassionate) communicators.

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Stanley and Rolan, local students in our discipleship-based high school program, practicing active/respectful listening in a dynamic role-play

 

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We touched on the fact that body language, tone of voice and facial expression constitute the large majority of communication (whereas the actual words spoken account for a small percentage of the overall message conveyed) in addition to explaining the difference between an active and passive listener, open as opposed to closed body language, the importance of allowing the other person to speak first, how to diffuse a potentially explosive situation, conflict mediation, etc. Miss Ligia and Miss Isis, our secondary and primary teachers, even participated in the workshop in order to learn more about a topic very few Honduran schools ever touch on.

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Miss Isis in a silly skit with Sindy, one of our local students. Both were extremely shy and hesitant to come up to the front at the beginning of the class, but soon enough they were participating with great joy!

 

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In Honduras where the majority of people – even educated adults – don’t employ basic active listening skills and many people struggle to maintain eye contact in a conversation or group setting, the workshop proved to be not only fun but also extremely important in our students’ development as equipped instruments in God’s hands.

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15-year-old Sandra and 14-year-old Elalf demonstrating active listening skills in a skit

 

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The students practicing active listening skills in pairs

 

Many youth and adults in this country suffer from a very deep sense of what they call ‘shame’, limiting them in their self-expression and initiative, and completely incapacitating them in the more difficult arenas of public speaking and conflict mediation. Many of our students have been very reluctant to read out loud, pray in front of others, voice an opinion, or have to stand in front of their peers and give any kind of presentation, so our dynamic activity yesterday – standing up to read the different points elaborated on the whiteboard, going to the front of the classroom with a partner to act out different silly skits, etc – constituted a huge step for all of our students in being able to freely and lovingly express themselves without wilting under that dark cloud of constant shame.

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Messy, an extremely shy local student who has slowly begun expressing more joy as she learns to participate without fear.

 

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At the beginning of our time together everyone – even the teachers! – were nervous about having to ‘put themselves out there’ in a potentially embarrassing skit, but as our time progressed everyone – even the shyest students who typically fade too easily into the background – were laughing hysterically, participating in numerous skits, trying on the different wigs and hats I had brought with me, etc.

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Cristian and Rolan, both local students in our 7th grade program, participating in a rather silly conflict resolution. (Great wig, Rolan!)

 

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As we have witnessed (especially in these last few months), many people in this nation problem-solve by way of violence. You said something I didn’t like, so I’ll go and kill you. You look like someone who belongs to the gang I’m against, so I’m gonna kidnap you. You stole from me, so I’ll shoot you. Learning alongside our students yesterday how to problem-solve by way of loving confrontation, humble listening, and asking/granting forgiveness rather than by resorting to violence may save lives long-term. What a privilege to be involved in this process!

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Dayana, our eldest daughter whom we are in the process of legally adopting, in an intense role-play with Miss Ligia, our secondary teacher, as they sought to resolve a heated dispute peacefully.

 

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We wrote across the whiteboard in large letters, each person taking their turn to stand up and read aloud: “…Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry,” — James 1:19

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Elalf and I entering a dramatic skit about conflict resolution. (To make the class even more interesting, I dressed up in a high school uniform over my normal clothes and added a fun hat and purse!)

 

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He had stolen my slipper, after all!

 

The lighting in several of the photos came out poorly, but I hope you enjoy them and the riotous joy they contain! Praise God for this huge step of teaching young Hondurans how to be more effective, loving communicators for God’s glory!

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There’s a lot of information to copy down in your notebook! Try to keep up!

 

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Gotta love this photo of Miss Ligia on her way to the bathroom!

 

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Amen! Glory to God!

Bible study, Community Life, Family, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Primary School, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Marriage, Music, Personal Reflection, Special Needs Kids, Teaching

August 2016 Updates and Prayer Requests

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High School Students Studying Ted Dekker’s Historical-Based Novel “30 A.D.” About the Life of Jesus

A couple months ago Miss Ligia (our high school teacher) and I began reading Ted Dekker’s novel “30 A.D.” with our thirteen 7th-grade students. The majority of our students had never read an entire book before on any subject (most schools here do not assign books to read nor is reading in general a common pastime for most Hondurans), so tackling a 398-paged historical novel with teens who read on a very low reading level has been quite the task. The book itself is phenomenal, and although several of the students have struggled mightily to develop the discipline of actually reading the chapters and the mental capacity to understand the content, it has been a very rewarding experience enriched with discussions, quizzes, group work, etc, as we seek to deepen our knowledge and love of Christ with our local students. After our students finish the novel at the end of the month we have missionary biographies prepared for them to read!

 

Prayer Needed for Gabriela’s Intense Emotional Needs

I am very humbly asking for prayer for Gabriela (nicknamed ‘Gaby’) and for my attitude towards her. She has been living with us a little over a year, and we’ve decided to say she’s eight years old (although it’s very likely she’s 9, 10 or 11 because no one knows how old she really is), but mentally and emotionally she is on the level of a three-year-old.

She is by far the most emotionally demanding of all of our children, and I get drained very quickly in her presence as she is extremely clingy, wants to be held constantly, wets her pants and her bed nearly every day/night, struggles when I pay attention to the other kids (or when I try to do any other task), and behaves as a toddler would although physically she is a big kid and has already begun wearing a training bra. Her personality in general is very loud, repetitive and annoying, so most of our other kids do not actively spend time with her, leaving me as one of her only loving companions (besides special-needs Josue who is her best friend).

I have begun talking and praying with her extensively about the fact that only God can fill her emotional void; I love her and God utilizes me in her life to show her His love and affection, but I alone will never be enough to fill her up.

Please pray with me that this message would penetrate into her heart and that she would earnestly seek God as her eternal Father, for He is the only One who truly satisfies. Please pray for me also, as being Gaby’s mom is an extremely exhausting affair (although an incredible blessing); pray that the Lord would grant me the patience, unconditional love and energy to love her the way Jesus does. I feel hounded almost constantly by guilt because I simply do not have the superhuman strength to attend to all of her emotional needs to the extent that she wants, and I sense that she oftentimes feels rejected by me. Please pray that God would liberate me of these feelings of guilt and replace them with trust in Him.

 

Legal Progress Report: Documents from 2011-2015 Finally Processed, Approved (!)

After having compiled and trying to submit a rather extensive portfolio of legal documents, photos, letters, etc, to the capital’s government office in Tegucigalpa since 2014, we were notified about two weeks ago that everything finally went through and we are in good standing with the government after quite a bit of organizational confusion that occurred when the leadership of the Living Waters Ranch was transferred from Teresa Devlin (the founder) to my husband and me in 2012.

We thank and praise God for this great news (and huge relief!) that we are finally up-to-date and have been accepted/recognized by the government as a legally operated NGO (non-profit) who fulfills the national requirements. Praise God!

 

Prayer for Ongoing Insomnia

Several years have passed and I still struggle each night with insomnia, sleeping about 2-5 hours per night. I’m exhausted to the bone and frequently struggle with irritability toward those around me. It seems like several times per day I have to humble myself and go ask forgiveness from those who were the victims of my snappy attitude or impatience.

Please pray that God would give me the perseverance and energy to continue to fulfill His will and that I may be granted deep, restorative sleep so that I may be an increasingly useful instrument in His hands.

 

Miss Martha to Rest from Chronic Pains

Miss Martha, our beloved sister in Christ in her late 50s who serves alongside of us at the Living Waters Ranch as the cook, literacy teacher and nurse, notified us last week that she has made the difficult decision to stop serving at the Ranch and spend a season resting at home due to several chronic pains she has been struggling with for many months. The work at the Ranch is very physical – a lot of walking between buildings, bending over, carrying things, playing with kids, etc, and due to the intense pains in her left leg, one of her hands, and her neck/arms, she feels that she can no longer continue in the work. We love her dearly and will continue to see her every Tuesday as she plans on continuing her participation in the ‘Christian Leadership’ class.

Please pray with us for her healing and that the Lord would continue the good work that He has begun in her.

 

Much Time Consumed Each Week with Trips to Local Government Offices

Although we are up-to-date with the capital offices in Tegucigalpa, there are many smaller, local government branches that have different requirements that organizations like ours must fulfill, so in the last few weeks Darwin’s and my time has been largely consumed with waiting in said government offices, turning in paperwork, having meetings, etc, in addition to the many daily hands-on tasks with our kids and students. We’ve been going to the Social Security Office, Board of Education, and several others (I’m not sure how they would translate in English) in somewhat exhausting/frustrating circles as we’re trying to jump through the many required hoops to ensure that we are legally covered in every possible respect should anyone come and bring accusations or complaints (such attitudes of accusation and of wanting to see others fall is very common here and can be very dangerous). Several nights recently Darwin has not gotten home until 7:00 or 8:00pm after having been away all day jumping said hoops.

Please pray with us that all these errands, etc, would not distract from the purpose God has given us to proclaim His Word and invest in the lives of the children/youth for His glory, and that we would be able to meet all the requirements quickly and efficiently.

 

Coming Up On 1-Year Anniversary with Nightwatchman’s Family

Next month will mark one year of living in relationship with the family of our nightwatchman at the Living Waters Ranch. By God’s grace we have been able to develop a very healthy relationship with them as we serve one another for God’s glory. Four of their kids are in our elementary school as they are learning to read, write and do basic math along with their participation in Bible study, choir, various after-school ‘clubs’, etc, and the nightwatchman’s wife helps serve in our kitchen and cleaning a few days per week. During this almost-one-year that our watchman has been doing his rounds each night with a flashlight, we haven’t had any robberies.

Please continue to pray with us for our relationship with this family and that our Father may continue to grow us all up in love, wisdom and Truth as we serve one another as neighbors for His glory.

Bible study, Child/Youth Leadershp, Community Life, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Primary School, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Personal Reflection, Teaching

Unlikely Disciples

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A few weeks ago we began offering an optional “Christian Leadership” class on Tuesday afternoons for those students and laborers who wish to stay a bit late after their morning academic classes and deepen their walk with Christ.

We had the handwritten sign-up flyer taped to the external wall of our Education Building during the days leading up to the first class, and I was pleasantly surprised to see quite a few names scribbled on the list. There would be no credits given for the class, and, moreover, the other after-school classes being offered – sports, art, music, cooking class, and math club – honestly presented a glossier, more alluring attraction to the majority of the students than another class about Jesus. I mean, all of our students already spend several hours each week in Bible study, praise and worship, and organized prayer groups. What teen or pre-teen previously accustomed to very little spiritual direction would voluntarily sign up for more?

On the morning of the first class I glanced at the sign-up sheet again, and to my surprise many of the names had been carefully covered up with white-out! The brightest students – and honestly those whom I’m closest to and who participate most in our twice-weekly Bible studies – had erased their own names from the list! I sighed and read the names that remained: generally lazy trouble-makers – bad students! – who I have to constantly reel in during Bible study! How could this be? Why on earth would they sign up for an intensive Christian leadership course while the others backed out last-minute? Why didn’t those wily, disobedient students just sign up for cooking class and sports club? Is this some kind of joke?

I headed to our bedroom, quite disappointed and wondering why so many students backed out last-minute. I gathered my teaching materials from our wooden bookshelf and began heading over to the 7th-grade classroom where I would hold the class. In passing I commented to my husband sarcastically: “Ha! Stanley [a 15-year-old 7th grade student who has a long record with us of disrespect, laziness, sexist jokes and general immaturity] signed up for Christian Leadership! And he’s constantly goofing off in Bible study. Why would he sign up for the class? I think he got confused with the sign-up sheets.¨

As soon as those venomous words came spewing out of my mouth I bit my lip, already regretting having said all that I did (or rather, having thought it in the first place).

So I exited through our front door, repentant for my judgment of Stanley and determined to ask God for a better perspective – His perspective. As I took the ten or eleven steps to reach our Education Building, Charlie, a very small 13-year-old in 7th grade (who also has a long history of clowning around, not passing his exams, etc), came running up to me and asked if it was too late to sign up for Christian Leadership.

I smiled warmly – Charlie had been in Darwin’s and my prayer group that morning – and told him we would be entering in 5 minutes and that he was welcome to join us.

I guided the 5 students who had signed up for Christian Leadership over to our kitchen to serve them rice and beans, and from there they carried their plastic bowls with them over to the classroom where we would be having our class.

Miraculously, rebellious Stanley had not slipped out our front gate unnoticed, escaping his commitment to the class. He was right there with the others, face unusually bright and open. I suppose I had still hoped that he had signed up for the wrong after-school class and would be erasing his name from the list as so many others had already done.

We entered the empty classroom, everything swept and cleaned – smelling of a strong yet pleasing cleaning liquid – after our 7th grade students had collaborated only a few minutes earlier to clean at the end of their schoolday.

Everyone sat down as we formed a tight semi-circle out of the desks, moving aside those that remained empty so as to create a sense of greater unity and less distraction. Miss Martha, our 56-year-old nurse and cook, came in, as she had also written her name on the sign-up sheet. A few moments later 22-year-old Miss Isis and 29-year-old Miss Ligia, our elementary and secondary teachers, also entered the class, eager to learn.

As Spanish praise and worship music played softly over the CD player – at times barely audible as the rains intensified over the tin roof of our Education Building – I considered the motley crew of eager disciples Jesus had chosen for this class: a woman in the autumn years of her life, a young single mom, a lawyer who left the world behind to take a low-paying job teaching troublesome rural teens for God’s glory, four teen boys (all of which are not generally classified as ‘good students’ and who have had their share of behavioral struggles with us), our 12-year-old daughter Josselyn (who had just entered third grade this past week after passing second grade with flying colors), and myself.

My mind listed about five or six names of students who would have been perfect for this class – those who actively participate in Bible study, those who actually show some interest in knowing God and obeying Him. Where were they?!

I sort of looked around, stupefied, waiting for at least one or two of the boys to stand up and leave once they realized this was a Christian Leadership class. No fun art projects; no tasty cooking experiments; no high-energy relays or trips to the local soccer field. Just the Bible, an open heart, a large whiteboard in front of us, and a journal for each person.

No one moved, not even Stanley.

My eyes met 15-year-old Brayan’s, our beloved prodigal son who is in fifth grade for the fourth time.  Brayan – Brayan!, that now-almost-as-tall-as-me man child who lived with us for eight months a couple years ago, whom I used put to sleep at night, whom I read Lion King picture books to, who has the affectionate needs of a small boy, who can’t seem to ever ´get his act together´ and get on schedule with his homework assignments, who spends his free time wandering aimlessly around our rural neighborhood, who can´t seem to maintain a respectful attitude toward his step-mother, who even recently got mixed up in some bad decision-making – who even now, almost two years after having moved out of our home, still calls me “Ma” – this Brayan! – wants to learn to be a leader for Christ.

I get it, Father. They’re all here on purpose – You’ve carefully chosen each one and placed them here for a reason – and no one is leaving.

Your plans are always better than mine, Father.

With a big, genuine smile and an ‘okay-then!’ attitude, I let out a small laugh that probably only I understood and began displaying several brightly-colored notebooks on one of the desks in the middle so that each person would come and grab one.

The Spanish worship music continued in its majesty; rain trickled overhead, then pounded, then trickled again.

The Bible verse I scribbled in large print across the whiteboard that first class was this: ¨Anyone who claims to be intimate with God ought to live the same kind of life Jesus lived.¨ (1 John 2:6)

From there, everyone participated as they called out different aspects of the way Jesus lived. Perfect obedience to God, joy in the midst of difficulties, did not love money or seek happiness/security in it, willingness to suffer, did not consider this world to be His home, etc. I listened as I wrote frantically with arrows spouting out from the large-written verse, trying to keep up with all that was being said.

Then one of the teen boys mentioned with confidence, ¨Jesus spent time with the tax collectors, prostitutes, and the ´bad´ people – drug lords and thieves. He wasn´t scared of them, nor did He judge them.¨

Another one of the boys perked up, familiar with this teaching that we had all studied together in our community Bible study several months prior and added enthusiastically: ¨He came not for the ´good´ people but for the ´bad´ — those that recognize that they are bad, that is. We are all murderers, after all. He came to heal the sick – those that recognize they need a savior – and not for those who try to justify themselves!¨

As my long arm extended toward the whiteboard, instinctively trying to keep up with their right-on proclamations of the way Jesus lived, it hit me hard and clear: that´s why God has brought together such a motley crew of disciples for this class. These are the kids who recognize they need more of God; they are the ones who perhaps best associate with the God-man who sought out the lost, the robbers, the ‘bad guys’.

These are the same kinds of young men Jesus would have probably hand-picked to walk with Him 2,000 years ago.

I’m so foolish in my quick judgments and human standards!

Now I get it, Father. Thank you for revealing Your wisdom to the most unlikely.

Oh, throughout this year we had been so consumed with looking for ‘good students’, with finding bright youth from our neighborhood – those that display some real sense of leadership capability, those who already have good habits, fairly respectable personal hygiene and some pinch of academic work ethic. But the whole time our Father has been preparing the vagabonds – the ´bad´ teens, those that are a step or two away from falling into the gangs – to take hold of His Word with faith and be trained up willingly to go out and make more disciples for His glory.

So we continued onward with an attitude of great joy, mine rooted in deep thanksgiving, as we held dynamic discussions and participated in communal prayer.

We finished the class by reading the entire book of 1 John, which I believe none of the participants had previously read. Each person grabbed a Bible as some sprawled out on the tile floor to read while others remained in their desks or stood quietly by the open windows to take God’s Word in their hands and meditate.

The peace among us was so strong; a great calm overtook the room as soft sunlight poured in, the rain still trickling overhead, each person silently absorbing the great hope we have in a God who loves us enough to not give up on us, who goes so far as to die for our redemption, liberating us from the punishment we deserve. The rest of the world carried on with its business (busyness): our kids and students passing by the front porch, Darwin giving piano classes in an adjacent room, others involved in cleaning projects or group homework assignments or pick-up soccer games on the damp front lawn as God silently, efficiently, made His will known to each of His unlikely disciples.

That was four weeks ago; every Tuesday afternoon since then we have continued to meet, to open the Word together and learn what it means to submit ourselves to God’s will to such an extent that we become useful instruments in His hands, leaders to reach the nations with the Truth. Three additional students, also very unlikely disciples, have since joined our class as we continue onward with great hope that He will transform us – we who would be the last to be chosen for any great task the World could assign! – into powerful instruments in the Living God’s hands.

Amen! Glory to God!

Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Teaching

Art Club Kick-Off with Miss Ligia

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A couple Fridays ago ‘Art Club’ commenced under the enthusiastic direction of Miss Ligia, our beloved secondary teacher who continues to brave the untravelled ‘classroom’ waters. She had studied and practiced law prior to taking the rather large leap earlier this year to begin practicing a different kind of justice — the taming of 13 unruly teenagers with God’s love.

In addition to being the full-time 7th grade teacher, she has taken on the role of leading the weekly ‘Art Club,’ and the class’ kick-off a couple Fridays ago went phenomenally well. After organizing an in-class lesson on the primary and secondary colors, etc (a very basic topic but one that is unknown to the majority of youth from our rural neighborhood as they have never taken even an introductory art class before), she grabbed the white t-shirts, fabric paint and brushes and headed out to our front lawn with her Art Club participants to spend the afternoon decorating t-shirts (which will then be used as their ‘uniform’ for the club each Friday). Oh, and I believe there was some kind of glitter-filled balloon trap hanging from the ceiling of the classroom to begin the whole activity. Way to go, Miss Ligia!

Enjoy the photos several of our younger kids and I took during the first Art Club meeting…

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Miss Ligia and Darwin in our front yard with a few of the Art Club students painting t-shirts at one of our concrete tables

 

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Miss Ligia with Arnold, a 13-year-old student from our rural neighborhood who participates in our 7th-grade discipleship program, piano classes with Darwin, and several of our new extracurricular clubs

 

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Four of our boys as they plan how to decorate their t-shirts

 

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Our 15-year-old daughter Dayana with local students Stanley and Sindy as all three paint t-shirts during their first Art Club meeting

 

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12-year-old Dariela, a glitter-covered local student

 

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Watch out, Miss Ligia! The girls are coming for you!

 

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It looks like Miss Ligia has been fully initiated into Art Club! Nice face markings!

 

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18-year-old Exson, a very artistic young man from our rural neighborhood who participates in our high school program

 

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I don’t know who’s comin’ for who; both Miss Ligia and Cristian look like they’re up to no good! I bet paint is involved!

 

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This was the shirt 13-year-old Elalf painted. It reads “God is love” with a lamb in the top corner.

 

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Our 9-year-old son Jason took this photo and several others as he camped out in the truck-bed of our parked car. He’s pretty good paparazzi!

 

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14-year-old Arlen, a local students we’ve known almost three years, as he poses with his newly-painted t-shirt


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Clean-up time!

 

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Our 11-year-old daughter Gleny as she greets her older sister who just got finished with Art Club

 

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Time for everybody to head home! See you Monday, Miss Martha!

 

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See you on Monday, Charlie and Arnold!

 

Amen! Glory to God!

Family, Information About the Mission, Personal Reflection, Special Needs Kids, Teaching

Shrieking with Delight and Persevering Through Fatigue: Rowdy Tutoring with Miss Isis

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Last Friday Miss Isis, our young primary teacher who began living alongside of us at the Living Waters Ranch earlier this month as a way of deepening her walk with Christ, has begun giving tutoring classes to Gaby and Josue (our special needs ‘twins’ who are both 8 years old but are developmentally about 3 or 4 years old after having suffered severe abuse and neglect with their biological families).

Our little ones’ fine motor skills are abysmal (although astronomically better than they were 12-18 months ago when they arrived in our family!) as they struggle through basic daily activities such as washing a dish, holding a pencil, opening a door, operating a zipper, etc, and they live in the midst of speech impediments, lack of focus, diaper-wearing and untold difficulties that distance them from their peers. Thus, Miss Isis decided to focus much of the tutoring on physical movement, mimicking, strength and coordination (along with teamwork and general levels of fun!), all of which are basic building blocks on top of which finer, more focused motor skills will be added in the future as they learn to assimilate more and more into functioning society.

Last Friday was their first class together, and much to everyone’s surprise (and utter delight!) Miss Isis — who is typically very poised and quiet and has zero experience with organized sports  or any kind of physical training — brought her “A” game with our quirky little ones, thrusting aside any general societal norms of ‘accepted adult behavior’ or any notion of not wanting to ‘look weird.’

After having spent the morning in the ‘academic wilderness’ with her small group of second-fifth grade primary students (who also suffer many developmental delays, severe behavioral problems, and generally low intellectual capabilities), she suited up (as in, took off her sandals) for what promised to be a high-energy time with two very special little people.

After organizing several wind-sprints across our large front lawn (and participating), doing many frog-jumps and other rapid movement activities, Miss Isis began panting, collapsed on a nearby bench and informed the kids through heavy breaths, “Okay, great! You’re doing an excellent job. Now I’m gonna give you a little break to catch your breath before we continue onward…”

I laughed (because Isis needed the break, not the kids!), and I ran to get my camera for what was quickly becoming one of the best, most high-energy tutoring classes I’ve ever seen anyone give our little ones (and which is exactly what they need).

So here, captured behind the lens, is our beloved sister in Christ, Isis, giving her all alongside of our two goofy, precious, broken little ones. 16-year-old Sandra, who in no way was obligated to join in the tutoring class, even participated because it all looked like so much fun! Go, Sandra, go!

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Good job, Josue! Just follow my lead — keep those legs and arms in constant motion! Pedal ’em like a bicycle! Let’s go, kids!

 

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Legs up and down, up and down! You got it!

 

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Pump it! Don’t give up, kids!

 

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Get those arms and legs movin’! Up and down! (I think Gaby got the ‘down’ motion, but not the ‘up’!)

 

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Now everybody pull your knees to your chest! Pull ’em tight!

 

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Let’s get that bicycle action goin’ again! Don’t give up!

 

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Okay! Legs! Bring those legs up and down, up and down! Feel the burn! (Gotta love this photo of Gaby!)

 

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Whew! That was exhausting…

 

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Now it’s time for some stretching! Circle up! Touch your toes to your neighbors’ and try to grab their fingers!

 

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Now reach as far as you can towards the center!

 

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One hand on your head and the other one extended to touch your toes! You got it, Gaby and Josue!

 

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Okay! Grab your neighbor again! Stretch!

 

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Now try to put your head to the ground!

 

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Now reach behind you! Extend your arms!

 

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Okay, kids! Get showered up because now we’re heading in to art class!

 

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Gaby’s ‘silly (dragon) face’!

 

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What a beautiful drawing, Josue!

 

Amen! Glory to God!

Bible study, Child/Youth Leadershp, Family, God At Work Among Us, Personal Reflection, Teaching

The Great Popcorn Hunt: The Dare to Believe God

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Several Saturdays ago as the day progressed onward through joys and difficulties untold, I wearily thought about the pending “women’s meeting” I had scheduled with our five eldest daughters that same evening from 5:00-7:00pm.

My insomnia had raged the night prior, leaving me robbed of sleep, drained of all natural energy. Some pioneering women’s meeting with five precious, tender-hearted, rebellious young women would simply require more of me than what I had available to give.

The tempting thought crossed my mind to postpone the meeting indefinitely, waiting for that ever-elusive ‘perfect’ evening in which my energy and mood levels would be just right so as to pour myself with utter devotion into our precious teen and pre-teen daughters. After all, so-and-so and that other one over there had behaved terribly just a few moments ago and I was more in the mood for a thorough butt-chewing or leave-me-alone cool down than any kind of sit-cross-legged-on-the-floor-and-pour-your-heart-out meeting that I would not only be attending but leading (and without any guide materials other than the Spirit of God upon my heart).

However, I knew that there is never a ‘perfect’ evening in which to adeptly direct our women’s meeting, aglow with flawless health, soaring spirits and the wisest of pre-planned counsel. The time is now, however imperfect my efforts.

(Plus, in our household we put a very heavy emphasis on fulfilling your word. If I were to cancel the meeting that I myself had dreamed up and scheduled and revved everyone else up for during the prior week, well, that would really splash a gallon or two of hypocrisy stain across the parade from which we daily proclaim the necessity of letting your ‘yes’ be ‘yes’ and your ‘no’ be ‘no’.)

So, leaning into whatever strength God could lend my weary soul, in an undeniably dull tone (which was ironically the peppiest I could muster), I instructed our girls to grab their pillows and head to the little office building where we would be sitting on the floor for our women’s meeting. It would, after all, be starting in three minutes and we mustn’t be late.

I had zero plan for the meeting beyond a very intense desire — which in the moment seemed to have left me entirely — to continue guiding our daughters in the realm of sexual purity, urging them — begging them, imploring them! — to believe the Truth of Christ in a very real way rather than giving in to the lies of the enemy.

So we all sort of meandered over to our office building in a lazy herd, some of us already showered and in our comfy pajamas while others decided to remain hot and sweaty after a day of chores, Saturday classes, kitchen duties, etc. As is generally the case, the girls took their unspoken cues from myself and our eldest daughter Dayana, both of which looked about as bored and discouraged as could be. Several of them somewhat skeptically asked me what we would be talking about in our meeting, and I answered very honestly behind that exhausted glaze in my eyes: “You’ll see…” (As in, I’ll-see-too-because-I-certainly-haven’t-planned-anything-because-all-the-burning-desire-and-moving-messages-I-had-previously-wanted-to-communicate-to-you-have-since-left-me. Let’s see what God does, because your bet’s as good as mine.)

So, our first women’s meeting seemed to be a dreadful bust from the get-go as my sandaled feet strode one after the other, carrying my own two or three pillows as I trusted through foggy thoughts that God would do something with my raw — although unenthusiastic — obedience.

As we entered the little living room of our office building with its light-green walls and duck-taped ceiling boards (to keep the bat poo from falling all over the floor), I put on a fake smile (as did our girls) and indicated for all of us to sit in a circle on the tiled floor to commence the meeting.

We prayed to begin — I do not remember who prayed, but it was obvious to all that it was done out of habit and a general respect for God rather than any sincere longing to include God in our gloomy reluctancy, our pointless meeting that promised to rank in ‘boring’ just behind washing the kitchen walls and just above scouring the yard with a flashlight looking for dog poop.

Well, quickly enough we sat down and all eyes were suddenly trained on me, waiting. I am the adult, after all — the mom, the married woman, their daily counselor with all of 25 years’ life experience —  and I had called the meeting. What for?

Drowsily fighting back thoughts of “This is awkward” and “Oh, God, I don’t even remember what I had so earnestly wanted to convey to them in this meeting!“, I thought with a matchstick-flicker of joy in the back of my mind: “Well, here goes nothing…”

What only I knew was that I had hidden snacks in various locations all around the simple cinderblock office building in a planned attempt to start our meeting with a game that could hopefully open their eyes to a reality that’s been gnawing away at me for weeks. (Plus, in our home snacks like chips and candies are very prized and not very frequently purchased, so all of this would doubtlessly be a big deal whether or not they understood the deeper message.)

But I had to get my attitude right if this was going to work. Like a shovel thrust deep that hits rock and can go no further, I scooped out whatever remaining energy I did or didn’t have — whatever genuine joy God would allow to flow through me — and said with a new spark, however small, in my eyes as my facial expression remained intentionally flat:

“There is a bag of popcorn in Gaby and Josue’s classroom [the room attached to the living room where we sat] in the third drawer of the dresser.”

 

I did not say, “Go and get it,” or “Bring it on over so we can all share a snack during our meeting.” I simply put the naked truth out there with the same bored tone of voice as a dentist might comment to their new patient, “You have a 2:00pm appointment next Friday.”

I resisted the urge to laugh out loud as their unenthusiastic faces stared back at me, confused and somewhat put-off, waiting for further explanation. After all, I had not previously mentioned the fact that there would be snacks in the meeting, nor was that normal of me to have purchased junk food for any occasion. Why was I being so weird?

I paused to let my comment hang in the air. They were all waiting for more instruction and/or clarification, neither of which I would be giving them.

Then, the miracle: 11-year-old Gleny’s eyes lit up without any further cue. The youngest and — by far — most immature participant in the “women’s meeting” (alas, I had considered not inviting her due to the maturity /complexity of the themes I had hoped to discuss with our teens!) understood my comment and ‘got’ that I was inviting them to believe me. She blinked enthusiastically several times, looking at me with a wild “Can I, Mom? Can I? Can I?” look in her eyes as she glanced at her sisters on either side of her who simply rolled their eyes at her and/or gave her a you’re-weird-and-I’m-too-cool-for-this look.

I took the time to review each girl’s expression as I steadily, carefully and without emotion, repeated my announcement: “There is a bag of popcorn in Gaby and Josue’s classroom in the third drawer of their dresser.”

Upon saying the announcement for a second time, it’s as if the electric energy inside of little Gleny’s body just couldn’t take it any more — she sat up straight and got into a low crouch as her eyes continued to search mine with increasing energy. Seeing as I wasn’t going to say anything else, I suppose she, too, felt called to an charged silence in this strange activity. She was so cute; it was obvious that trouble-maker, roller-coaster Gleny didn’t want to disrespect me by jumping up even though everything within in her urged her to do so. Without putting her question to words, her entire body language screamed: “Can I, Mom? Can I go? Can I look?” It was as if the news was just too good to be true. Popcorn?!

Allowing her expectant energy to continue multiplying, I looked even-faced at the others, who seemed less than amused. 15-year-old Dayana might have even checked her watch.

Then, understanding that I wasn’t going to stop her from getting up to go look, Gleny finally leaped to her skinny, toned legs and disappeared behind the door to Gaby and Josue’s classroom in the blink of an eye.

My privilege was to see 12-year-old Jackeline throw a glance over at Dayana, both of whom rolled their eyes and scoffed at Gleny’s antics. I suppressed a huge smile welling up in my chest.

Not three seconds later Gleny came triumphantly bursting through that wooden door with the rather large bag of artificial-cheese-covered-popcorn raised high in her extended arm.

All at once, the other four who had so incredulously mocked her exchanged wide-eyed glances first with each other and then at me. It’s as if they didn’t know if they should be in total outrage (but something stopped them because, after all, I had plainly announced the popcorn’s availability to all) or if they should be kicking themselves for not having gotten up to go investigate my statement. Then, still without anyone having spoken they all seemed to settle on the feeling of despair as Gleny jumped up and down, squealing with delight at her find, her eyes ablaze with the joy of discovery, the thrill of promise fulfilled, hope satisfied.

Waiting for a few moments to pass — and without me saying anything else (not even “Good job, Gleny”), I announced in the same slow, detached tone: “Under Gaby’s backpack in the [currently unused] crib you’ll find a bag filled with cartons of milk.”

This time I couldn’t even blink before all 5 were wild on the chase. Jackeline and Dayana, our original scoffers and both of which are quite athletic, dove simultaneously at the fragile fold-up crib and nearly collapsed it as Jackeline went head-first over the side, grabbing at the dirty pink backpack that surely concealed the bag of milk cartons.

Well, Jackeline found what had been promised as pony tails went flying this way and that and nearly-grown young women stampeded about, shrieking with glee.

Then: “Behind the Spanish dictionary there is a packet of candies.”

Take cover! Five wild bodies flung themselves at our poor, wobbly bookcase, skimming dozens of titled spines in a desperate attempt to be the first to happen upon the prize. I believe this time it was Dayana who came upon the unusually thick book, reached her hand behind it, and pulled out the package of promised candies. She, as her ‘immature’ little sister had done so only moments before, raised them high in victory.

So, tall, teetering bookshelves were nearly overturned, bathroom mirrors nearly broken and chairs just about thrown over as a bewildering frenzy overtook the small enclosed space as I announced promise after promise to be sought out and discovered.

Joy was restored in the process; both mine and theirs. Theirs for treats discovered; mine for Truth uncovered.

As the search came to a close, each girl plopped down upon her pillow, but this time with a big smile on her face and with hands full of treasures as we split everything up into plastic lime-green bowls that I had brought with me for the occasion.

As everyone set about divvying up, trying this type of chip and that type of candy, I dared to enter boldly into the purpose of the search-and-find activity:

“Now, Gleny — since you were the first one to find the hidden popcorn — I have to ask how you knew to look for it.”

 

She swung her head toward me, her entire face — no, body — still utterly, wildly alit with an electrifying joy (perhaps pulsing with such force not for the momentary pleasure of eating popcorn but for the fact that she — she of all people, our aggressive, precious daughter who oftentimes picks fights, verbally attacks others, flees in tears! — led her older sisters, did something noteworthy, understood some juicy secret that they refused to believe), answered immediately as her eyes flickered at me:

“Because you told us it was there!”

 

As everyone else began munching on their snacks — our women’s meeting having fully and wonderfully commenced — the others looked at me, intrigued, but surely thinking, “Duh, Mom. Don’t you remember? Why are you asking Gleny how she knew to look for the popcorn?”

I continued, rejoicing in my Father for hiding such things from the worldly-wise and revealing them to little children:

“That’s right, Gleny. But how on earth did you know that the popcorn was actually there?”

 

Still ablaze, she responds:

“Because I got up and found it!”

 

Another resounding, “Duh, Mom” could have been deciphered by investigating the glances of the other four, but by now they knew I was onto something. I had their attention.

“Ah, yes. But how did you know that when I told you about the popcorn that it would actually be there?”

 

Without skipping a beat, she proclaimed as innocently and as radiantly as I have ever seen anyone speak:

“Because you never lie to me!”

 

I stared at her as we sat on pillows not three feet from one another, momentarily stunned at the extent of Gleny’s revelation, the purity of her child-like faith. My heart bowed low as my recognition of the Lord’s hand on her young life caused my hope to soar: Thank you, Father, for granting Gleny a faith — a trust — that is so uncommon in today’s world. May she always trust You in such an unswerving fashion.

So Gleny’s simple, trusting faith — and even simpler way of explaining it — opened the door to the following 2+ hour discussion we would enjoy that night (and we really did enjoy it).

Many things were said, understood, as we wrestled with what it means to have faith. Had the other four not heard just as clearly as Gleny about the popcorn in the third drawer in the classroom? Maybe, even, they had ‘believed’ what I was telling them, but to what end? How did Gleny harvest the blessing, discover the promised thing? These questions and many more were looked at, considered, from every possible angle and put into many different contexts as the search for discovery — the enjoyment of Truth, of hope satisfied and promise fulfilled — continued among us in a very real way for the duration of the night.

This was the topic the Lord had planned all along for us to discuss.

Soon connections were made with the real world — the world beyond popcorn hunts — and the dawn of revelation, new understanding, began lighting up our young daughters.

“In this journey together as family, it is of utmost importance that you believe me. The Spirit of God lives within your Dad and I; you have to believe — in an active sense — the promises we communicate to you daily if you are to reap God’s blessing.”

“You can hear 568 times that real blessing is found when one waits in sexual purity for their future husband, and you can look at me numbly and say, ‘Yeah, I know. You’ve told me that before; we’ve read it in the Bible too. Thanks.’ But how are you actually going to reap the blessing, discover the joy of promise fulfilled?”

They are getting it. Dayana, bowl of yummy treats nearly empty, stares at me from across our little formation of pillows and women and agrees with me with her eyes and words as she speaks slowly, aware that she is on sacred ground: “We will reap the blessing if we actually put into practice what we know of God’s Word. Like when Gleny actually got up. That’s how she got the blessing.”

“Yes, Dayana! And how many of us fail to believe God, do not act upon the instructions He leaves us, and then shake an angry fist at God when we don’t reap blessing? We blame God for our own failure to believe, to act!”

I continue, encouraged by this new outpouring of wisdom among us: “I could have told all of you six thousand times about the popcorn in the dresser drawer, but if no one had actually believed me and gotten up to go look, you would have all tricked yourselves into believing that I was crazy and that there was not, in fact, any blessing to be discovered! And it’s worth mentioning that Gleny, venturing out in faith, found the popcorn because she looked in the right drawer! She didn’t open the first or fourth drawer; following my instruction exactly, she reaped the harvest of blessing. Had she checked the second drawer, all would have been in vain.”

They are getting it and we are all encouraged in our dimly-lit little room at the base of some mountains in some forgotten country.  Push farther, go deeper into my love, He urges us, leads us.

“How many times have we discussed the precious freedom that Christ has for us, is calling us to? Each of us can probably recite all the verses, nod our heads in agreement — and then what? Do we actually believe Him? Do we move to discover the blessing; do we actually react? We can numbly hear marvelous, outrageous promises from a good God while sitting by idly, nodding our heads — or possibly scoffing in disbelief! — and never actually discover the blessing. The blessing is found, harvested, when we react, obey, move, venture out. If we don’t move, we simply don’t believe.”

Our night as young women together on the path to Freedom — to Eternal Love — was truly marked by God’s presence among us that continued onward, gaining momentum and depth long after the fleeting pleasures of this world (snacks) were gone. Since that beautiful night we have referred back to sweet Gleny’s wild act of faith many, many times as we all laugh and remember her outrageous trust in her mom that never lies to her.

Oh, may we actually live this way every day of our lives, believing our Father who never lies to us! May our eyes light up, may our body become electrified with joy when we hear of His promises!

Amen!

Bible study, Community Life, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Primary School, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Marriage, Personal Reflection, Special Needs Kids, Teaching

June 2016 Updates and Prayer Requests

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Outrageously Fun Learning Curve

At the Living Waters Ranch we are currently riding quite a thrilling learning curve, seeing as none of us has previously done the kind of work that the Lord has currently assigned us.

Special-needs kids, sexual abuse victims, parenting teenagers who spent their childhood in someone else’s family, teaching God’s Word weekly to dozens of people, intimately guiding the hearts and lives of wounded youth, mounds of (sometimes confusing) legal documents to be continually written and updated, designing and then operating a new high school, seeking to cultivate an intentional Christian community, financially stewarding a growing ministry, managing (and guiding, loving, investing in) a team of Christian workers, legal adoptions, a herd of milking cows? 

Our hair is blown-back and our lips are flapping in the intense wind as we daily engage in the outrageous privilege of learning on the fly, utilizing every spare second of freetime to absorb new teachings, devour the Word, go and learn from those ahead of us, listen to sermons directing our steps into this unknown territory of children’s ministry, devour books on topics such as sexual abuse/spiritual warfare/leadership training, sit down to pray and seek guidance together as Christ’s body, and make 1,459 mistakes along the way.

Let us give thanks to our Father who calls the unlikely, and then — miraculously! — equips them to go out and proclaim His name! Amen!

Miss Isis, Primary Teacher and Christian Laborer, Will Move to the Living Waters Ranch in July

Miss Isis, our young primary teacher who has been roughing it with us in the ‘wilderness’ among rogue youth, hard-learned lessons and joy abounding since August of last year, will be moving into a spare bedroom in our office/special needs building with her year-and-a-half-old daughter at the beginning of July.

She is a native Honduran and has been called to leave her family’s home, sell the majority of her belongings, and take the huge step of faith to begin living on our mission base 7 days a week as a way of deepening her walk with the Lord. The step she is taking is very counter-cultural and has been difficult for her family to accept, but it is such a privilege to see that she is assured even moreso that Jesus is calling her into deeper intimacy with Himself.

She is a sponge, has grown exponentially in these 10+ months of laboring alongside of us, and is a tireless worker in proclaiming the incredible grace of a good God.

We are so proud of her and are excited about taking the step to include her into our growing family/community at the Living Waters Ranch as our Father continues to mold us into His family, a beautiful expression of His love for wounded, rebellious humanity.

Sandra’s Mom Begins Attending Bible Study

15-year-old Sandra, who moved in with us in February of this year due to a situation of sexual abuse with her step-father and about whom I have written many updates and prayer requests since then, continues to hold a very precious relationship with her mother.

Sandra´s mom, who is still trapped in a difficult relationship with Sandra´s step-dad but doesn’t have the financial means to leave him with her three younger kids, visits Sandra weekly at our home/mission and has begun to attend Bible study in our dining room with us as she continues to seek refuge in the warrior God who loves her and is constantly seeking to protect her heart from the harsh circumstances in this world. Two of Sandra’s younger sisters (who are not in danger with Sandra´s step-dad because he is their biological father and treats them well) have also become actively involved in Darwin´s youth choir, and their mom is now attending first grade at a school for illiterate adults on Saturdays as she desires to be able to read God’s Word for herself.

Please continue to pray for this precious woman as she continues to seek God’s will in the midst of an unhealthy marriage relationship and deep poverty.

Celebration of Four Years Living in Honduras, Three Years of Marriage

The 5th of this month I celebrated my four-year anniversary since moving to Honduras as a recent college graduate in 2012, and on the 24th Darwin and I will celebrate three years of marriage. Glory to God for these milestones!

Prayer for Additional Supporters

Due to the fact that this is the first year we have offered our discipleship-based 5-day-per-week high school program along with our new special-needs classroom to local youth from our (destitute, gang-riddled) rural neighborhood, we have higher monthly expenses than we have had in years past as we are now serving more people. Each month more is going out than coming in, so I am humbly expressing our need to see if anyone is called to join with us to fill it.

My husband and I currently toil joyfully alongside of four full-time Christian laborers (local Honduran missionaries serving as teachers, prayer leaders, etc) whom the Lord has brought to the Living Waters Ranch and from which they earn their living. All four full-time laborers have been added on in the last year, and thus salaries — however meager they are — are currently a heavy (but entirely necessary) financial burden in addition to the many other monthly expenses we incur (medical/dental/basic care costs for the 8 who live with us full-time, food, administration, legal fees, educational materials for our students, etc).

There are currently 18 individuals/families and  3 churches who financially support this work monthly and several others who give generously from time to time.

Please pray with us that the Lord would raise up a handful more of faithful individuals/families to partner with us in this incredible expression of God’s Kingdom among us here in Honduras. If you or anyone you know is called to participate with us in this work, you can go to http://www.CTEN.org/jenniferzilly

Bible study, Child/Youth Leadershp, Community Life, Family, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Personal Reflection, Teaching

Trampolines, Proverbs, Beach Balls and Letters of Gratitude: God’s Grace Experienced in the Classroom

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This past Friday our beloved high school teacher, Miss Ligia, was away from the classroom during the morning hours to attend an appointment in the nearby city of La Ceiba, so we searched long and hard to find a suitable substitute teacher…

Well, we found one, but her teaching methods were a little off-the-wall (sometimes quite literally as her inflated beach ball bounced off the walls…)

 

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Where’s the ball going next?

 

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15-year-old Sandra, the newest addition to our household in February 2016,  eyeing her crazy substitute teacher…

 

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Heads up, kids! It’s comin’ your way!

 

Each student had to be ready to drop whatever they were doing  to catch the roaming beach ball when their name was called, stand up, and declare the Biblical statement I had scribbled on the very, very full whiteboard.

 

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Our 15-year-old daughter Dayana, one of our two live-ins who study in our new discipleship-based high school program

 

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14-year-old Messy, a local student in our program

 

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18-year-old Exson, Messy’s older brother, who is in my twice-weekly prayer group and who has begun to ask the Lord to grant him wisdom above all else. Every time we ask who has a prayer request, he always says with a smile, “Wisdom.” We give thanks to God for Exson’s participation in our program because truly a large portion of the young men in our rural neighborhood who are his age are involved in gangs or drug-trafficking or simply roam the streets and engage in utter purposelessness.

 

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12-year-old Dariela, an exceptionally bright student from our rural neighborhood who is in the beginning stages of being transformed by her knowledge of God’s Word and His love for her

 

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14-year-old Arlen, whom we’ve known consistently for two years now and who is acquiring a very precious maturity, wisdom, and love of God. He used to be extremely childish and lazy, but in the past few months he is emerging as a leader in our Bible studies and is being transformed as a son of God in a very real way.

 

Here’s the good news: if you’re really talented, you get called upon to come shout out the declaration with the beach ball and jump on the mini-trampoline at the same time.

 

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We all enjoyed an incredibly blessed morning together on Friday. I implemented a partially-Montessori-style learning environment geared toward older kids while including hands-on stations such as “architecture” (blocks/Legos), painting, and Chinese Tangram puzzles.

 

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14-year-old Rolan, a very artistic young man from our rural neighborhood who has fantastic questions about life, God, what comes after death, etc. He is very open to hearing God’s word and is one of our better students academically.

 

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For the majority of our teenage students, something so simple as playing with blocks is new to them because they never did so in their early childhood. As much as we are moving forward with our students, much of our work with them is also going backward with them and providing what they didn’t receive in the beginning stages of their development.

 

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Rolan, Charlie and Exson enjoying a painting project on the tile floor after having finished their desk work

 

The sit-in-your-chair stations were: an independent study on several chapters of Proverbs, written thank-you letters (one to Father God and one to any family member or person who supports them in their daily life), and a discussion-based study guide of questions based on chapter 13 of Ted Dekker’s novel “30 A.D.” that we are currently reading as a class.

 

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13-year-old Charlie, another student who is undergoing a very surprising transformation. He came to us in early February as a little jokester, constantly making fun of others or turning everything into a big joke, but as of late he is very active in Bible study, is becoming a much better student academically and is truly finding his niche in our hidden little discipleship center in the foothills of the mountains. Please pray with us for his continued transformation, salvation and protection as seeds of Life and Truth are being planted in his life.

 

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13-year-old Elalf and 12-year-old Sindy working on their letters of thanksgiving

 

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Reading several chapters from Proverbs and writing on index cards the verses that impacted them most

 

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This is 12-year-old Cristian, one of our 7th-grade students who has had many struggles with constancy and work ethic in his first several months in our program due to the general indiscipline that reigns in our neighborhood and undoubtedly defined his education and outlook before arriving at our front gate. In these past couple days he has begun to work a bit harder after a very productive meeting we had with his mother. Please pray with us for him as he continues to be exposed to the liberating Truth of Jesus and the purposes that God wants to involved him in.

 

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Seeing as the 12 students had spent the first part of the morning in their socks after having been instructed to leave their shoes at the door (to protect our little mini-trampoline from dirt clods, etc), after an hour or so had passed it was time to rotate stations.

To shake things up a bit and ensure that no one fell prey to boredom or restlessness, I informed the students that on the count of 10 they would jump up from their seats, find and put on their shoes as quickly as possible and then run 2 laps as fast as they could around our little schoolhouse before returning, taking their shoes off again, and sitting down in their new stations.

 

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Go, go, go! Get your shoes on!

 

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Here come Sindy and Dayana! They’re on Lap 2!

 

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Stampede of young men!

 

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Who knew that running laps would be so much fun?

 

I definitely didn’t think it would turn out as well as it did; everyone came in laughing hysterically and panting.

 

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As each person collapsed in their seat, I informed them with a huge smile: “I liked that so much, that you’re gonna do it again. 1, 2, 3 — 10! Go!”

Eyes wide and still panting hard, everyone jumped up again and repeated the whole process!

 

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Do it all again!

 

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Oh no! Elalf cheated! He’s carrying his shoes rather than wearing them!

 

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I think Sindy’s tired!

 

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Go, Sandra, go! She’s heading back to class after having completed her two additional laps!

 

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Well, the lap-running had the exact effect I had hoped for: it canalized their energy enough to persevere a few more hours with our focused activities in the classroom. Worship music continued to play from our little CD player in the classroom as each student worked independently at their designated station, the entire morning marked by such tangible peace, gratitude and joy as can come only from our good Father who is beyond this world of ours that is stained by just the opposite. Truly we thank Him for granting us a morning of such grace as we continue to grow together, fervently seeking the One who holds all answers, all hope, all joy.

 

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Amen!

Bible study, Community Life, Family, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Personal Reflection, Teaching

Forgive Me for Having Killed You

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11-year-old Gleny, whom my husband and I are in the process of legally adopting along with her older sister and younger brother, recently approached me in the midst of the afternoon hustle and bustle in our kitchen and motioned her hand to pull me aside and speak in private.

This not being uncommon, I left whatever bulk-sized snack or dinner-warming project I was so intensely dedicated to on the kitchen counter and took a few steps to accompany my wild, immature, affectionate daughter near the doorway to our storage closet. (I think she adores me almost as much as I adore her.)

Our emotional roller-coaster Gleny wore a calm yet very resolute facial expression. I crouched down in front of her as she said: “Forgive me, Ma, for having killed you.”

Although her words could not have been spoken more clearly, my mind did a couple dazed somersaults as I thought I must have surely misheard her. After searching her face a second or two, groping for any kind of meaning, I asked dumbly, “What’s that?”

She repeated, completely sane, her brown eyes trained on mine: “Forgive me for having killed you.”

Oh.

Of course.

Having seen the dawn of understanding shed its light upon my face, she sighed and added, “Earlier this afternoon. When I got mad at you.”

I smiled into her eyes, remembering all too well what had happened between us just an hour or two before. I had asked her to do such-and-such terrible thing (like study or hang up her school uniform or wash her snack Tupperware), and she had responded in a moody, delayed obedience, muttering under her breath words that could sting the ears and heart. Such instances are not uncommon for my Wild-Miss-Gleny-in-the-Process-of-Being-Transformed, but her repentance and way of seeing the situation are definitely new.

Still crouched in front of her in that little nook in our busy kitchen, I followed her lead, humbling myself: “Forgive me for the times I’ve killed you. We’re all murderers, aren’t we?”

She smiled big, but perhaps my joy was even bigger than hers.

She sees, understands.

For the past couple months in our pull-your-chair-up-and-let’s-sit-in-a-circle Bible study, we’ve been studying Jesus’ radical words:

“You’re familiar with the command to the ancients, ‘Do not murder.’ I’m telling you that anyone who is so much as angry with a brother or sister is guilty of murder. Carelessly call a brother ‘idiot!’ and you just might find yourself hauled into court. Thoughtlessly yell ‘stupid!’ at a sister and you are on the brink of hellfire.” (Matthew 5:21-22)

 

So now…the standard – the expectation – has been raised. Infinitely so.

We are no longer asked to merely abstain from physically taking another human being’s life. (I don’t know about you, but I’m doing incredibly well with that command. I mean, I can pat myself on the back and announce to the world that my behavior in regard to the no-murder command is spotless. I haven’t slipped up even once!)

But Jesus says that now anyone who becomes angry unjustly is guilty of the same crime. Guilty of murder. Who hasn’t gotten mad at least once (or thousands of times) in their lifetime?

So, then, we’re ALL…murderers.

You know those cute babies or toddlers who go on a screaming and kicking fit even though they’ve been fed, changed, and had a nap recently? Yeah, they’re murders too.

So why did Jesus have to go and make the standard so unattainably high? Why couldn’t he just leave us with the solid, respectable command not to kill (which, even if broken, is quickly justified in times of war or self-defense)? Why would he go so far as to call all of humanity murderers? Even the ‘good people’?

We chewed on these questions with our kids, students and Christian laborers for several weeks as we met every Tuesday and Thursday in our oblong rectangle in our dining room to dig deep in the Word, in the Truth. I even posted these questions all over the walls in our school building to get the kids thinking in their free time.

After much effort, no one could understand why Jesus did it, why he went and raised the bar so high that no one could reach it. It almost seemed like a bad move to do so, right? A lot of his closest followers and friends abandoned him because his teachings were so hard to accept. I mean, what was he thinking? Did he want to discourage us all, eliminate us from the great Morality Competition? Why did he command us to do what we simply can’t?

The answer:

So that we would recognize that we need a Savior.

Every single human being.

We had (have) to recognize that we simply cannot do it on our own, cannot reach the standard of perfection by our own strength. If all the commands from Heaven were easily attainable with a little moral training (and excusing), why send a Savior to die a cruel death, taking on the punishment we deserve? (And the ‘good people’ cry out: “What do you mean ‘the punishment I deserve’? I’m a ‘good person’ — I don’t kill, don’t steal and am (mostly) faithful with my spouse! I mean, I lie sometimes, but who doesn’t?“)

‘Good people’ and ‘respectable citizens,’ don’t await a punishment; murderers do. And especially serial killers, those who go around time and again taking the lives of others! (Are you starting to get the point?…How many times have I — have you — gotten mad today? In this past week? In the last 25 years?)

I praise God that my wild Gleny recognizes — as she did the other day and has done so several times since — that her temper flare-ups are the equivalent of taking a machete to someone’s throat or gunning them down with an AK-47. Because she understands this, she can very quickly and easily jump to the conclusion that she needs a savior. 

So this knowledge of our status as ‘murders’ before the Just, Perfect God is infiltrating our household and rather effortlessly becoming a part of our worldview and our daily interactions as we continuously come back to the cross, remembering the punishment that we no longer have to pay.

A few days after the aforementioned incident in the kitchen with Gleny, 12-year-old Josselyn with her too-short bangs (that she cut) approached me in my bedroom doorway, her eyes wide, and informed me: “Before [learning that we are all murderers] I had never thought about it like that, but I’ve…killed a lot of people…” Her eyes and voice wandered off a bit as she processed such a strong thought.

Suddenly her eyes grew even wider as she swung up an extended finger to my face: “I’ve killed YOU!” And then, under her breath, “Several times.”

She looked up at me, both shocked and relieved at her own statement, and we began to laugh together.

“I know, Josselyn. I’ve killed you on numerous occasions too. But the good news is that Jesus already suffered our murderers’ punishment, and now we are forgiven if we believe in him. I mean, the only reason it makes sense to forgive one another is because God has forgiven us. Right?”

She sighed and nodded her head. Together we both continued to laugh out of a total relief — awe — at the goodness of God. He lets murderers off the hook, punishing his own son in order that the killers might experience freedom and mercy. What extravagant, undeserved love!

Bible study, Child/Youth Leadershp, Girls' Youth Basketball, God At Work Among Us, Personal Reflection, Teaching, The Gifted and Talented Program

Alone Before the Throne: My Last Day at the Episcopal School

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A few weeks ago I taught my last youth leadership class in the Episcopal School, that old light-teal-colored three-story building in downtown La Ceiba where the Lord first began training me back in 2012 for the work He has currently entrusted us.

As the magnitude of the work at the Living Waters Ranch (where my husband and I live and labor 7 days a week) has grown over these past two and a half years, we have recently made the decision to withdraw from our part-time labors at the Episcopal School in order to focus entirely on our Father’s purposes in our little rural town on the outskirts of La Ceiba.

So I arrived about an hour before class on that final Monday with my black suitcase filled with dry erase markers, my students’ journals and little candy treats. In a very real way I was burdened with joy, with gratitude.

I asked one of the full-time teachers at the school to unlock the multi-purpose/storage room for me. I had been assigned that room during the last couple months once the air-conditioned upstairs library room had become highly coveted among the other teachers.

As he unlocked that utterly undesirable room at the end of the first-floor passageway, I sighed as I found my classroom as I had found it every Monday prior: desks in total disarray, someone else’s trash littering the ground, boxes of this-and-that thrown about in the back, supplies from some other teacher’s project left haphazardly about, a couple rouge foosball tables here and there to add to the overall eye-sore effect. Some little empty milk cartons tossed about on the tile floor, a layer of very tangible dust covering almost everything.

I set my black suitcase – my mobile classroom, in effect – down along one of the walls and calmly set about ordering half of the classroom while pushing all that I didn’t need to the other half.

Seeing as I had always preferred that my students sit on the floor, every Monday I would lift and move the desks and chairs, creating a very free floorspace for us to sit in a circle and grow together.

Boxes, foosball tables and other miscellaneous objects moved to the back half of the classroom, whiteboard wiped down, trash ‘swept’ away with my foot because a broom was not found. Laptop turned on with Spanish praise and worship music now majestically filling the unlikeliest of spaces. Ready.

As I participated in this familiar routine for the last time, the heaviness in the room became palpable. Standing still, my eyes travelled up to the itty-bitty windows at the top of the back wall of the classroom, opened to allow in the smallest amount of light and fresh breeze. An overgrown tree-plant from outside extended a few of its nosy branches into our sacred space.

In this room – in my posture before the Lord – stillness had become my close friend.

This is God’s will. His Word being preached, His children being instructed not from a grand stage but in abandoned rooms.

God’s wisdom seems like foolishness to the worldly ‘wise’ while He laughs at human ‘wisdom’ and calls us all to become fools for His sake. I’m sure that every other teacher and employee at this school is certain nothing good could ever happen in this dirty storage room, but if only they knew what I know, what my students know! Here we find the Master; here we learn His ways.

How many times during my first year in Honduras when I was 22 years old and single did I find Him two rooms over in what was then my first-grade classroom all alone at the end of a hard day, praising His name in the midst of seemingly insurmountable difficulties?

After having been promised 12-15 manageable students in my bilingual first grade classroom as a first-time teacher fresh out of college and living on my own in a new country, it turned out that 28 had been entrusted to my care, none of which showed any mercy to their young teacher who had zero training or experience. Oh, how difficult that first year was, but how closely I felt His hand over me, over my little ones! How many times did I reach the point of weeping – whether for joy, out of profound gratitude, or exhausted by frustration – in this old, teal-colored building tragically situated in the city that has recently been considered to be the murder capital of the world? How many times have I found Him here, alone, as I do even now on what is my last day? Thank You, Father, for these precious moments of stillness in Your presence.

As in any marital situation or large family, in our daily work at the Living Waters Ranch with the 8 children/youth the Lord has brought us to raise as His sons and daughters mixed in with the 20+ other youth from our rural neighborhood who frequent our home/mission for school and discipleship, it is all too easy to get swept-up in a group mentality. It becomes natural to ‘put family first,’ or enjoy the general feeling of ‘we’re all in this together.’ Now that we’ve become accustomed to loving one another for God’s glory, what on earth would we do if someday we become separated?

While these are not bad thoughts, we must understand that each person’s journey begins and ends standing alone before His throne.

It was alone that I began this journey with my Lord back in 2012, certain of His calling on my life whether single or married – I had not even met my husband and had no idea who my children would be! – and here I was alone once again as this precious chapter was being closed. Four years after the journey began, there I stood deeply scarred and torn — formed — by the myriad experiences the Lord had led me through henceforth.

Likewise, at some point in the unknown future – possibly losing spouse and/or children to tragedy, as is all too common here and in the world at large – I may return to such a state of singleness, aloneness in the Lord’s presence.

As every person must come to wholly recognize in their own lives, my beloved husband and the children whom I so adore do not constitute my walk with the Lord; He is who He is whether the blessing of their presence is granted me or taken away. The Lord’s mission is not realized exclusively on ‘mission bases’ in the foothills of majestic mountains or in organized church environments; it is also realized in hectic urban schools and abandoned storage rooms like the one in which I found myself.

So my students began arriving about half an hour later in their two separate groups: first hour with my fourth- and fifth-graders, second hour with my sixth- and seventh-graders, most of whom I had known since Day 1 of entering the Kindergarten-12th grade Episcopal School in 2012. Coaching them in extracurricular basketball teams, being the full-time first-grade teacher of some, getting to know one another during organized visits to our home/mission out in the countryside, preaching the message during their scheduled ‘church’ time on several occasions, or guiding them weekly through the personalized spiritual formation process in the various extracurricular programs the Lord had guided me to design over the past years. Oh, how many hours I had spent reading their journals, excitedly scribbling this or that insight the Lord had given me to continue forming them according to His wisdom and perfect love!

So our last day together was almost unbearably heavy yet ethereally light as the children and I shared some unspoken understanding, so obvious that no one dared cheapen it with words: The Lord has indeed moved among us. Their eyes said it as we opened up the Word one last time to reflect, sieve, press deeper and farther. My eyes said it as I searched their faces; undoubtedly the Truth had already begun consuming a small corner of their souls. Fan the flame, I prayed silently as I moved and taught among their cross-legged semi-circle on the floor.

The Lord placed the words in my mouth to teach His little ones: “None of this – none of these past four years of deep friendship, warm hugs, long letters and uncommon lessons – was from me or about you; it’s all about Him. Seek Him. Everything we have done and said here comes straight from His Word, straight from His heart. Carry the torch; continue the search; allow Him to transform your mind, your sight.”

Then, an uncommon, daring thought. I ventured to put it into words, praying they would understand: “Kids, if you’ve seen something different in me — and I’m certain you have — if you’ve wondered how on earth ‘Miss Jennifer’ always looks so joyful or why she really loves and treasures you while perhaps other adults generally do not or why she seems to see things differently than others  –”

As I sat among them in our tight circle, their eyes were trained on me and confirmed that, yes, they had unmistakably noticed something different about me during these last four years of close friendship, of discipleship that digs deep, sheds light on the darkness, transcends normal ‘teacher-student’ boundaries.

I dared to continue: “– It is God at work within me, the Creator of the universe manifesting Himself among us through me. It’s not ‘me.’ ‘Miss Jennifer’ is actually quite the gossiper, the money-lover, the lazy fool without God. If you’ve seen a distinct joy, a different perspective, an eternal hope, any pinch of wisdom, that is actually God within me, acting through me. If you’ve felt drawn to me as a teacher, it is because you have felt drawn to God. His Word teaches that He actually comes and lives within those who are submitted to His will; that is one of the ways He manifests Himself to humanity in the world today. So now on our last day together I beg you to keep reflecting on all that we’ve learned together, and may you see God Himself in my actions among you. And if you’ve seen any impatience or bad attitude, that’s ‘me;’ that’s not Him. That’s what’s left over of the ‘Miss Jennifer’ without God, and He’s still in the process of transforming that part, renewing and cleansing. But please know that God has indeed been moving among us, acting in and through us to make Himself and His perfect love known to us, and that He longs to work in such ways in and through each of you, thus captivating humanity with the utterly attractive nature of all that He is.”

Many things were said on that last Monday together, while at the same time very little was said while much was understood. It was a Great Commission of sorts, a sending out of those who have started the training process to continue onward with great faith while going out and training others to love and follow the Father in similar fashion.

As the last of my students left, my heart heavy as I embraced each one, I ended that day as I had started it. It was, in fact, how I had started this entire journey nearly four years ago: joyfully alone, trusting,  in an abandoned room in that old teal-colored building, focused on my Father alone.

Community Life, Family, God At Work Among Us, Information About the Mission, Living Waters Ranch Primary School, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Marriage, Personal Reflection, Teaching

By God’s Design: Zebras in Honduras

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Recently a very well-meaning person gave me their careful recommendation that we do some kind of preliminary scanning/interviewing/selection process before accepting any new children either into our home/family or into our school programs so as to hopefully eliminate those wily youth who just can’t seem to get their act together, those who are ‘too far gone,’ or those who demand so much extra help and attention due to special needs. Focus on those who can really succeed, those who really want to be ‘helped’, they told me.

To some extent and from a certain perspective, this thought can be rationalized and even embraced.

The problem, however, is that when you run a hospital for souls, everyone who comes through the front gate is sick. Some are close to death and need intensive, prolonged treatment just to enjoy some level of stability (and even so they may always require their oxygen tank or weekly dialysis treatments), whereas others may stroll in with nothing more than a flu-bug or strep throat, receiving a quick, effective treatment so as to recuperate their vibrant health. Others, chronic, degenerative illnesses. Others, mental health issues. Others, mere toothaches.

I cannot imagine a hospital where the doctors and nurses stand at the front door turning away the most grave of cases, receiving only those with ear infections, sprained ankles and skin rashes while refusing those with stomach cancer, blindness, and advanced diabetes.

This perspective is one that the Lord has been etching out in us during these last few months or perhaps years. I cannot tell you how many times we’ve wanted to pull our hair out and stomp around like madmen, absolutely bewildered and frustrated and exhausted to the bone with some of the cases our Father has brought through our front gate. This is beyond us! Who can stand this child? He lied again! When will she ever learn? Why can’t You just send us ‘normal’ children? I’ve had enough! Oh, how easy it would be to just turn them away and accept the cute ones, the obedient ones! Yes, as weak humans we prefer those who only need a slight nudge in the right direction, a few safe prayers, and a reasonable investment of time, energy and love in order to ‘recuperate’ and enjoy the full life available to them in Christ Jesus. Send us those, Father! The others are just too hard, require too much sacrifice.

Just last week Darwin and I attended an organized debate among our high school students. My jaw dropped when the teacher asked one of the students (a 14-year-old boy who has ‘lazy-fool-who-doesn’t-want-to-change-despite-our-best-efforts’ stamped across his forehead in big, bold letters) to name an animal species indigenous to Honduras. After having had over a week to research, rehearse and prepare the debate with several classmates on this specific topic, this young man looked bewildered by the question (Just say ‘toucan,’ for crying out loud!) and answered erroneously, “Uh…Zebras.”

The thought that screamed through my mind: “Get him outta here! Fool, fool, fool! No wonder he gets like 15% on all of his quizzes! How many times have we sat down to counsel and advise him, pray with him, and all to no avail? We’ve known this kid for over two years, and we’ve seen almost zero fruit from our efforts to invest in his life! I can’t stand students like this!”

And yet every time we get ready to scratch one of them off our list, expel them from school or promise up and down that so-and-so is beyond help and will die in their own foolishness, that quiet voice inside of us says, “Bring him back. Go to him, and bring back the straying sheep into the safety of My fold. Go.”

Oh, how short-sighted we are! We look at three or six months or a couple years of dogged effort (with what we perceive as zero results), wipe our hands clean, and smuggishly pronounce to the world, “Well, we tried. We’ll keep praying for so-and-so, but from a distance. Hopefully he’ll crash and burn elsewhere and then maybe – maybe – he’ll wake up from his stupor and see the light of all that we were trying to teach him. He’s in God’s hands now.”

But our Father says, “Go get him! Bring him back if he is willing; encourage him again. Reassure him of My love again. Speak the Truth to him again. Hug him again. This work is not accomplished according to your schedule! Time means nothing to me! Go!”

And so we do. Just as Jesus’ words reverberated around the Garden of Gethsemane, so do they in the midst of our own conflicting thoughts: “Father, if it is possible, please take this cup of suffering from me. But may Your will be done, not mine.”

And so in the last several weeks we have gone out looking for lost sheep, and several have been found and brought back for God’s glory. Due to the general chaos and indiscipline that reign in our little rural neighborhood, a good handful of students both in our elementary and high school programs had become discouraged with our (very manageable) expectations of homework, discipline, work ethic, etc, and had simply stopped coming to classes or been expelled for extreme behavioral issues.

My thought: “Good riddens! They never wanted to be here anyway. Well, I sure hope they learned something during all those Bible studies they had been attending while they were in school with us, and I hope they were able to catch a glimpse of the person of Jesus Christ in and through us while they were here. Well, we certainly tried. We opened our home to them with all the love in the world (all my love in the world, which isn’t much) and they simply didn’t cherish the opportunity extended to them. Have a nice life, although it probably won’t end well for you!”

And Jesus speaks to our heart, piercing through the rowdy noise of our souls with striking efficacy: “Go find him. My work isn’t over yet. I still have plans I want to accomplish through you in his life. Go.”

Me: “No! He’s – he’s lazy! Oh, and his behavior is atrocious! He doesn’t even want to learn. You know I can’t handle one more child – and much less, teenager – who’s just begging to be kicked out. Please, no. Maybe in a year or two they can come back if their attitude changes, but right now?”

And so we go. In the last several weeks I’ve gone out into our neighborhood up long dirt paths and back alleys in our truck, in mototaxis, and sometimes on foot in search of those our Father would have us bring back. My husband Darwin has made phone calls to families and reached out to boys who I had labeled ‘beyond help.’ I’ve waded through nearly waist-high weedy overgrowth down a long abandoned path, going door-to-door looking for the home of one of our high school students who dropped out; I’ve sat on couches to pray with discouraged moms and I’ve sat on moist planks of wood in our students’ front yards seeking reconciliation and the Father’s will. We’ve moved our ‘plans’ around so as to make these search-and-rescue efforts a priority, and in the process the Lord has begun re-shaping our heart to look more like His.

All the while, our ego – that huge, nasty beast that demands ‘easy’ and ‘comfortable’ and ‘me’ – is getting pounded into the ground one blow after another by the steady rhythms of God’s love as He leads us from death into life.

And so, many of the students that I secretly hoped would leave (those who are the most difficult, the most lazy) are still here. In these past few weeks, by God’s grace and wisdom, five of the seven lost sheep from our school programs have been brought back.

And so, we are still engaged in what can only be classified as full-on spiritual warfare as we battle daily against extreme laziness, lies, immaturity, and darkness in the young people from our rural neighborhood who spend the majority of their waking hours under our guidance (not to mention the 8 who live with us as sons and daughters).

Just yesterday evening as my husband Darwin and I were alone in the kitchen finishing dinner prep for our 8 live-ins, we found ourselves once again discussing quite animatedly the ups and downs of our day, much of which is centered around the triumphs and struggles of the youth our Father has brought to us. Serving up bowls of rice, beans and tortillas, soon enough we were lamenting over the behavioral issue of so-and-so that occurred that morning or the fact that he or she cannot seem to grasp the fact that they have to do their homework, cannot just play all day and waste their lives. Darwin suddenly laughed, seemingly having received some new perspective to relieve us of what can very quickly become a discouraging conversation of wars lost and souls astray. He shook his head and said lightheartedly: “If all these kids learn in their time with us is the transforming Truth of God’s love, it’s all worth it.”

So, as far as grades go, kids are flunking out of our school left and right. But we’re keeping them around anyway. Our teenagers in second and third grade refuse to learn how many days are in a month, but we cling to the hope that in our midst the Father’s will may be done both in their lives and ours. We want to gnash our teeth and scream at the fact that over half of our 7th-graders still don’t know the multiplication tables that they should have learned early on in elementary school, but we know the Lord has a plan for them that goes beyond anything academic. The temptation is very real to expel such-and-such 13-year-old boy again (alas, we already expelled him once, but the Father led us to bring him back!) who is flunking second grade and finds it fun to scream obscenities at his poor teacher every day, but we’re seeing glimpses of light and truth – oh, how tiny yet how real they are! – infiltrating his mind and spirit, and we know the labor with him will be arduous but with the great hope of eternal rewards.

Against all logic and strategic planning, we have 14-year-old Brayan back with us in fifth grade for the third time, and – despite his absolutely terrible academic performance to this day – he is speaking and acting with a newfound maturity and joy, absorbing in a very real way the spiritual Truth being presented to him in ways that transcend any basic literacy exam or math assignment. As of late, he’s been going so far as to actively pray that God would grant him wisdom. According to Darwin’s new perspective (which I believe is actually Christ’s perspective), Brayan can repeat fifth grade ten times if he needs to, if that means that God is transforming him in the process.

Amen! Glory to the God who doesn’t give up as easily as we do!

Bible study, Community Life, Family, Living Waters Ranch Primary School, Living Waters Ranch Secondary School, Personal Reflection, Teaching

What Michael Jackson, Mother Teresa and Francisco Morazan Can Teach Us About Our Knowledge of God

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A few weeks ago we began our twice-weekly Bible study in a rather unusual way. Glancing at the dozen or so words wildly scribbled on the index card in my lap to guide us, I began throwing out the names of well-known international and local celebrities or heroes one by one to see how much we truly knew about each person.

There we sat next to and across from one another on an assortment of wooden benches in our dining room that is quickly becoming too small. Sitting around the rectangular-shaped bench-formation were our high school and elementary students, teachers, our own 8 kids, Darwin and I with a couple other laborers (Miss Martha and Alma, a local woman who helps clean a couple days a week) and a neighbor or two. There were about 40 or so people present.

I started off with the most famous man in all of Honduran history. There are schools, companies, streets, and even one of the 18 Honduran departments (the equivalent of a state or geographical region) named after this man, and — without fail — every September during the patriotic celebrations there are students all over the country participating in very important parades with banners and musical bands to honor this man and what he did for Honduras.

“Francisco Morazan.”

Anyone and everyone who was at least 8 years old displayed some kind of really strong reaction upon hearing such a familiar name. Some, sighs with a big smile. Others a loud, “Hey!” Still others nodding their heads up and down enthusiastically, like Yeah, I know all about him. It’s Francisco Morazan, for goodness’ sake! I graduated from Francisco Morazan elementary school last year, and I’ve been attending parades in his honor from the time I was in my mother’s womb. Please!

I let the reactions die down and asked the group, “Who is he?”

As if they had known ahead of time what I would ask and had rehearsed their answer, nearly everyone shouted out with utter confidence in their supreme patriotic knowledge (while simultaneously passing judgment on me for presumably not knowing): “He’s a national hero!”

My response: “Yes…But, I mean, who is he? Why was he a national hero?”

For a moment or two I had them all, as the majority looked like I had just knocked the wind out of them. ‘National hero’ didn’t say it all?

Then my husband and Derbin, a neighbor of ours who is a 9th grade student at the local public high school, began spouting off quite a few textbook-style details about Francisco Morazan, much to everyone else’s amazement.

I pressed deeper: “Do we know how many kids he had? Was he faithful to his wife? What did he like to do in his free time? Did he lose his patience easily?”

To those questions no one had answers. The point had been made.

I perked up in the now-very-sullen emotional atmosphere, gave a friendly slap on the back to whoever was sitting next to me, and said convincingly to the group, “Gosh, we sure do know a whole lot about him! We know Francisco Morazan just like he were our own brother, right?”

Everyone’s eyes began to light up in agreement with my statement due to my positive tone of voice, but then several students registered the absurdity of what I was saying. Their response: “Uh, no, we don’t know him as if he were our own brother.” Staring at the floor, probably disappointed in themselves for not having absorbed the least bit of information about their favorite national hero after having studied him in school year after year, several students added,  “We hardly know anything about him at all.”

Me, sympathetically, “Ohh, darn. I guess we don’t know much about him at all. Well, why not? How could we actually find out if he lived with true joy, if he genuinely wanted to serve his country or only his self-interest, what his weaknesses were?”

After a bit more probing and explaining, the group arrived at the conclusion that we would have had to intentionally study in-depth about this man from reliable resources to be able to answer the real question of who this man was (and not just his basic, ‘national hero’ profile of wars won and laws passed) or, better yet, as someone from across our rectangle wisely said, “We’d have to have known him. Personally.”

“That’s right. But we haven’t done all the investigations, and we definitely don’t know him personally. So we should just go ahead and jump to conclusions, assuming we know all about him, judging on the incredibly small amount of information we have available to us, right?”

They all got it: “No,” they answered in almost a whisper.

“Well, what if we hit the books, go do in-depth research on his life, habits, read his old diary entries, etc — what if we really do our best to figure out what kind of man Francisco Morazan was beyond his impressive public profile? How much would this information really be able to impact our daily lives, decisions and future?”

Some looked uneasy but gave their answer: “Uh, not much at all. He’s dead.”

“Yeah, right? Okay, well let’s give it a go with some more names.”

I was shocked that the names ‘Nelson Mandela’ and ‘Mother Teresa’ earned only blank stares from the youth sitting around me on all sides. My thought: We’ve got a lot to teach these kids!

We named Barak Obama, the current Honduran president (Juan Orlando Hernandez), several other national heroes from Honduran history (with results strikingly similar to those of Francisco Morazan), certain famous actors, well-known Biblical characters (John the Baptist, Adam from the Garden of Eden), etc. Each time, without fail, the group thought they knew the person very well (as in, had heard their name before and had at least a vague idea of their profession), but, in the end, knew almost nothing at all, at least not the most important details of their character, convictions and deepest motivations. And I, without fail, would conclude each round with, “Hey! Isn’t that great? We know so-and-so so well that it almost seems like they’re our blood relative, right?” By now they had caught on and realized that, no, we didn’t know any of these people even a little bit because we haven’t studied their lives in-depth or known them personally. We just hear a name and jump to a conclusion, assuming we already know everything when, in fact, we know nothing. And, each time I posed the question about how much it would truly affect our life trajectory, our decisions and future if we were to do that in-depth search on such-and-such person to find out who they really were, the year they got married, what their vices and personal victories were, each time the answer came back: “Not much at all.”

Then, a new name: “Michael Jackson.”

Upon hearing his name, a loud roar went up among the students, threatening to blow the tin roof right off our dining room. Brayan, the young man who used to live with us who is now back in the picture as our 5th-grade student, had the strongest reaction of all. Sitting a couple yards to my left, his eyes grew abnormally large, he pointed an extended finger to me as if I had just told a hilarious joke, and echoed, “Michael Jackson!”

Once the hoots and hollers died down, I singled him out: “Brayan, you had a pretty strong reaction. What do you know about Michael Jackson?”

Brayan, suddenly nervous for being put under the spotlight: “Uh…he’s a singer.”

Me: “…And? What else?”

That was it. He knew nothing else.

Certain other students knew a few hearsay details about Michael Jackson, but even their knowledge was incredibly limited and based on gossip and/or what they’d heard or seen on television. I asked: “Do we know where he was born? If he professed some kind of belief in God? If he really did abuse children as some have said of him? How did he treat the people closest to him?”

Many, by now accustomed to the knowledge that they knew almost nothing at all about all the people they thought they ‘knew,’ just looked at me with blank stares, admitting defeat. Others, those with a bit more confidence and information, began: “Well, I saw in the newspaper or read online…”

After a couple minutes of discussion, I reminded everyone that even what we read in the media can be biased, written to cover so-and-so’s backside or to accuse unjustly, invented, or well-meaning but based on misinformation. Imperfect, sin-stained humans — all stained by a terrible egotism, fueled by the desire to be our own gods, to command our destiny — oftentimes without firsthand information writing about others from their same fallen species  and many of which do so against strict deadlines and with certain reader expectations. Oftentimes the naked truth simply doesn’t come out in the media, however much we’d like to think that it does.

By now, we were all admitting that we know almost nothing about anybody — whether that be because we haven’t really studied the person’s life or the source of information (internet, newspaper, hearsay, etc) isn’t completely reliable. One of the teenagers in our rectangular-shaped think-tank laughed and said for me, “We know Michael Jackson as if he were our own brother, right?”

At that, we all laughed.

After continuing on with a few more names, we finally arrived at the last name scribbled on the index card in my lap. I think by now many of the youth had forgotten we were in Bible study because we had spent the good part of an hour playing our not-too-impressive trivia game. We had all laughed quite a bit — mostly at our own ignorance — and, hopefully, the message had been clearly given that we shouldn’t jump to such quick conclusions about others because, really, we know very little (if nothing at all) and most likely will continue knowing very little because it is extremely difficult if not impossible to jump into the inner circle, the thought world — beyond what the media does or doesn’t tell us, beyond what their polished biographies proclaim —  of Barak Obama or such-and-such Famous Person to truly search out their intentions, private goals and raw character to know who they truly are, where they stand. And even if we did somehow attain such intimate knowledge, how much would it even affect us?

The last name: “Jesus Christ.”

Upon hearing His name, almost everyone in the circle let out a long sigh of understanding or expectation, the emotional environment now appropriately heavy as the youth then saw where we were going with all this trivia nonsense. No one was quick to say anything.

A good portion of our students are skeptics while a handful have come to place their faith in Christ in recent weeks and months under our guidance. Very few have any solid foundation of faith established beyond these Bible studies and prayer groups that we have only just recently begun.

Dayana, our eldest and in whom we — along with many others — have invested more time, one-on-one Biblical study, teaching, prayer, counsel and fasting than in any other child of ours, began saying what many others could not. I had to stop her, because I know that she knows Jesus, but our goal was to reach the group at-large.

I asked the group: “Who is He?”

One 11-year-old boy in second grade who is tremendously shy, has had rather extreme behavioral struggles and who just weeks ago became a Christian (the first to do so in his family), said barely above a whisper, “Powerful.”

Another from across the room: “Savior.”

Derbin, our teenage neighbor who has grown up in a loving, Christian family and who has dedicated much effort to his walk with Christ now in his adolescence, began picking up where Dayana had left off, explaining with authority Jesus’ miracles, some of His teachings, the way He treated the poor, etc, while the rest of the group stayed quiet. I imagined — or at least hoped — they were asking themselves what they really knew about Jesus, if they really knew Him at all or had just heard His name tossed about and proclaimed here and there, written on church signs and bumper stickers. Francisco Morazan, Michael Jackson, and Jesus Christ — we know them all as if they were our blood brothers, right?

I explained what I think they were already catching onto: “Many, many, many people here — and probably all around the world — say they know Jesus. They’ve heard that He’s the ‘Son of God’ or that He lived and died thousands of years ago, and they think that is enough to make a snap judgement about Him and consider that they have Him figured out. Just in the same way that we fool ourselves into believing we know all about Francisco Morazan because we know he’s a ‘national hero,’ we think we’ve got Jesus figured out because we attended church a few times way back when or have seen the outside cover of a Bible once or twice in our life, have heard rumors that He rose from the dead or was born to a virgin. But do we know how He treated women, prostitutes even? Why was He killed, and by whom exactly? What did He teach about money? What does He do even now in today’s world, and what on earth does it mean to be His follower?”

Many people around the circle began to nod and chuckle appropriately, because the connection was being made.

“If Jesus really is the savior of all mankind, really did walk on water, really does love us and died to grant us peace with God — or, on the contrary, if everything about Him is just a big lie, if He’s just some Santa Clause figure up in the sky to make us feel better about ourselves — how much does this affect us?”

Several people from across the circle, some new understanding dawning behind their eyes: “Infinitely so.”

Me: “Yeah, right? If He is God or isn’t God — that knowledge has the capacity to change the trajectory of our entire lives! If He is a humble servant or rather some celestial tyrant, God-Made-Man or just some ancient myth, these are things worth knowing, knowledge that can actually change how we live and die! So is it worth investigating, putting in the time and effort to know Him?”

People around the circle began nodding and affirming verbally that, yes, this search actually is worth it.

“Literally, several times per month, people here ask me who I am and what I do. When I mention the Lord’s work that I’m involved in, without fail, every person whom I talk to immediately says something along the lines of, ‘Oh, yup. The things of God are the best. That’s the most important thing.’ Whether it’s a taxi driver, someone I meet in a store, or whoever, no one has ever looked at me like I’m crazy or asked, ‘Well, now, what are you talking about? I don’t know this God you refer to.’ Everyone, everyone, acts as if we’re all on the same page, we all know Jesus well and understand that He’s ‘the most important thing’. But the question I’m gonna start asking these same people is, ‘What are the things of God? Who is God?‘ because, really, I think a lot of people don’t have the slightest clue — they know Him no better than they do Francisco Morazan or Michael Jackson, are satisfied with knowing woefully little — if nothing at all — and for that reason they do not seek Him. They have fooled themselves into believing they already know Him.”

“So here, in this little dining room out in the countryside in the middle of nowhere, we are commencing a search, a quest, admitting that many of us actually do not know Jesus beyond the one- or two-word titles assigned to Him. Savior, Prince of Peace, Son of God — yes. But there is so much more! We will never begin to seek Him fervently if we’re fooled into thinking we already know all there is to know about Him. Case closed, quick judgment made, and we carry on with our lives. No! Today let’s admit that many know Him no more than we know Mother Teresa or President Juan Orlando Hernandez, but we can, in fact, know Him — both through God’s Word (which is not written as newspapers and magazine articles are, based on human opinions and folly!) and through His Spirit. And this search is actually worth it and has the capacity to change everything.”

So please pray with and for us during this time of fervent searching, of teaching what many believe they already know, of receiving new revelations from God and asking that He may touch all of our lives in ways that go beyond knowledge and into experience. Amen!