I think the lack of writing stems from what’s been going on in my life lately (more poignantly: what hasn’t been going on). I went through about a month of spiritual dryness that left me without inspiration, without passion, and without direction. I had nothing flowing through me, and it mostly stemmed from the fact that God had been trying to tell me something for about a month before that, repeatedly, and I’d been calling His voice that of the enemy, blocking it out and actively praying against it (trust me, the irony is not lost on me). Eventually, I guess God decided that since I wasn’t listening (and therefore, I wasn’t obeying), He would cease speaking to and through me. My prayer life was dead. My Bible reading diminished. My relationships around the house were all stressed. My health suffered. Eventually, I got a ton of people to start praying over me and something amazing happened. The thing God had been telling me to do was the first thing I heard in my head. I broke down, sobbing, recognized it as the voice of God, and immediately repented and obeyed. That was the easy part.

That obedience brought about a huge change in my personal life and lead to an outpouring of all that I’d been missing spiritually, which lead to a completely different outlook on our ministries, my time in Mexico, and all the people in my life (two thirds of that is still going strong). That obedience further led to more commands and understanding of things I was doing wrong, which led to more obedience and more outpouring. Now that I’ve confused anyone reading this, I can honestly say that my heart hurts. The problem with obeying, learning, worshiping, etc. for me is that I want everyone else to experience what I’m experiencing, and I try to do the Holy Spirit’s work for Him instead of being faithful and trusting.

Now, I look back on the past few days of judging and being frustrated, and I wonder why I wonder why I feel alienated and alone. How could I not expect that to happen? Today, I spent most of the day fuming over relationships in the house and pitying myself, only to go off to worship practice at my Mexican church (by the way, I joined the worship team, only I’m currently not really doing anything except running the sound board for practice) and sit at the sound board in the back, not talking to anyone for three and a half hours except occasionally being yelled at to change something (which I mostly didn’t understand anyway). Occasionally, I heard people asking the worship leader what my name was so they could yell at me too. How could I expect to feel fellowship when i sit around complaining and grumbling, then go someplace where I’m further isolated by the language barrier and don’t attempt to talk to anyone?

I currently have no direction. I’ve been sticking to my guns about being called to be a college pastor and then a senior pastor, but I’m realizing more and more that those are just things I felt would fit very well. The only true callings I’ve ever genuinely heard or felt were to go do missions in Holland and that being second in command in a church is in my future. I have no idea what I’m doing right now, but I feel more and more like God has something in store for me that I’m not expecting. Normally, that excites me. Right now, it drives me crazy.

I’m also feeling useless right now. Most of my strengths lie in discipleship, counseling, speaking, and singing. Guess what four things I don’t get to do here? You’d expect some of that from the language barrier, but I feel it in the house more and more. For the most part, people don’t want to hear what I have to say. I see it in meetings, in daily life, in ministries, everywhere. When I pipe up, someone else either talks over me or people just roll their eyes. Usually, I have one person who consistently listens to me, but the ratio is just overwhelming. (Note: this is about students. I feel like most of the time our leaders do a very good job of listening to everyone).

I suppose that’s enough complaining for one night.

On the bright side, our ministries are flourishing, my prayer life is improved beyond belief, and my passion for the people of Mexico is greater than it has ever been. I want so badly to see people all across the world accept the hope and promise that comes with a relationship with Jesus Christ. I want to be a part of that, and that’s something I’ve never really had this same passion for. I guess I’m finally understanding the way God feels on this level.

If anyone reading this could pray for direction, wisdom, and peace in my life, I would greatly appreciate it. If you could pray for unity in our house and for Jesus to be shown through our actions, words, and our hearts, I think I’d appreciate that even more. Finances are also extremely low for me, but that’s normal at this point.

“Like a dog that returns to his vomit is a fool who repeats his folly”(Proverbs 26:11 ESV) is the first. The Jamieson-Fausset-Brown Bible Commentary comments: “11. returneth . folly-Though disgusting to others, the fool delights in his folly.”

“What the true proverb says has happened to them: ‘The dog returns to its own vomit, and the sow, after washing herself, returns to wallow in the mire.’”(2 Peter 2:22 ESV) is the second.

I couldn’t help but think of these references today as I returned from a visit to El Colli. Our favorite (I know, I know, we shouldn’t have favorites) family from the neighborhood is a mom (who babysits Seth during the week) and her six daughters, and she had just moved back into the neighborhood. You’d expect us to be excited to have her back, right? Wrong. She should have stayed three hours away in Aguascalientes with her parents, where we helped move her several months ago. This woman has run away from her drunk, abusive, deadbeat husband more times than she can actually remember, and she keeps crawling back. Why? Why does she do it?

“My daughters miss their dad” was the excuse she gave this time, as the two oldest girls rolled their eyes and shook their heads behind her back. The oldest is now 17, with a baby boy of her own and a deadbeat runaway boyfriend to match. The second oldest is 13 and has recently started to recognize and vocalize the ridiculous decisions her mother is making, but without any guidance is doing so destructively and disrespectfully. I glanced around the sparsely decorated one-room shack, smelling the dust mixed with the odor of an overfull outhouse, feeling the pocked and pitched, broken concrete beneath my feet, leaning upon the bunkbed which slept six girls and a baby boy, soaking in the chill of the open doorways and the symphony of torrential rain on the aluminum roof. My eyes wandered back to “Mom.” She was currently explaining how her husband was “actually changing this time.” How she “could hear it in his voice.” She rambled on about how “even though he’s said all of these things before,” she “knew he wouldn’t hit [her] anymore…certainly not in front of the girls.”

We had helped this sow remove herself from the mire (I don’t mean to call her a pig; I love this woman and think she has a heart of gold, but that’s the biblical example I’ve got to work with so I’ll use it.) and wash herself clean, giving her a new start in a new city free of her old problems. True to form, she then promptly returned to wallow, taking her litter with her. We feel so powerless to help her, because she won’t help herself. The true pain, though, lies with the girls. What are those girls learning about strength, about love, about role models, about respect? What will the impact be on their future relationships with guys?

There is so much work to be done here, and so much we are powerless to do. I am so thankful that we can rely on Christ Jesus to transform hearts, minds, and lives; to redeem the enslaved, to heal the broken, and to encourage and strengthen the weak. I’m praying for this family and this neighborhood, and I would be honored if you would join me in that prayer.

It’s Thanksgiving Day, I’m thousands of miles away from my family or anyone I’ve ever considered family, and I couldn’t follow the traditions that I’ve had since the first Thanksgiving I remember. Football? No watching. No playing. Zilch. I’m good with that. I can deal with that. Apparently, they ended up being pretty lousy games to watch anyway. Solid. Datenut bread? Can’t make it here. Don’t have the stuff. (This is a recipe handed down for generations in my mom’s family that she taught me how to make. She made it every Thanksgiving and Christmas until she died, then I took over each year). Switching into pajamas after dinner? Nope. Shoot, half our people didn’t even want a pause between the two (I continue to be appalled by that idea) and I had to set up for a few other things.

If I’m listing off all this sad stuff that didn’t make me cry, you’d figure I only cried for happy things, right? Well, you’d be wrong. Don’t get me wrong; this day brings to mind so many blessings, both seen and unseen, that I’m brought to tears with overwhelming gratitude for the Jehova Jireh. The Almighty Father truly blesses me every single day, starting with the fact that I, an unworthy sinner, have been plucked from the clutches of death and made righteous in His sight, purified by the propitiation of Christ on the cross. The sacrifice of the Spotless Lamb truly does bring unbridled joy to my heart. However, what broke me today…over and over…over and over again, was another blessing. A blessing broke me? Yes. Let me explain.

Today, God blessed me with ears to hear and eyes to see. Today, God revealed the brokenness of my generation. He revealed the pain it causes Him each time a misguided soul, Christian or not, Catholic or Protestant, young or old, male or female, takes Him and His grace for granted. He revealed how much it pains Him to see each of us turns our back on Him whenever we decide that we can sin and make it up later. He revealed how much it breaks His heart when we are free to roam, free to blaspheme, free to indulge simply because “He’ll forgive me later.”

I’m not sure where Christ laid that out as the way to live. Wait, yes I am. Nowhere. That’s not the Biblical life-model. You know why? Because it stinks. You know why Christ modeled a life and Paul and the other Apostles carefully-sculpted the image of a life lived rightly? Because it brings righteousness. Not self-righteousness. Righteousness.

Do we even know what that is anymore? Honestly, most people don’t even try to figure out what it is. They just figure they’re covered because they mumbled some prayer after some guy who yelled at them about some other guy who did stuff so they’d be cool with some other guy who has a lot of weird names.

Salvation is worked out. Work it out. Work by the sweat of our brow is Biblically-prescribed

How does this strike you?
17To Adam he said, “Because you listened to your wife and ate from the tree about which I commanded you, ‘You must not eat of it,’
“Cursed is the ground because of you;
through painful toil you will eat of it
all the days of your life.
18It will produce thorns and thistles for you,
and you will eat the plants of the field.
19By the sweat of your brow
you will eat your food
until you return to the ground,
since from it you were taken;
for dust you are
and to dust you will return.”    Genesis 3:17-19

Yeah, sounds fun, huh? As soon as Satan entered our lives, so did hard work. Work existed before we had sin (Gen. 2 speaks of working in the Garden of Eden), but God makes a clear difference between the work we originally did in the Garden and the work we are now ascribed today. Because we allowed hurdles into our lives (Seriously Adam, you had to go and fail at being a real man? Thanks dude. Thanks a lot.), we now have the added burden of hard work.  According to Philippians 2:12 (So then, my beloved, just as you have always obeyed, not as in my presence only, but now much more in my absence, work out your salvation with fear and trembling;) we get to work out our salvation as well. What does that mean? As I read it, I’m pointed back to my original point: salvation is not an event. Rather, it is a process.

This process entails much. Constant failures, learning, stretching, denying one’s flesh (rather, slaying one’s flesh and replacing those desires with the Holy Spirit’s guidance and the will of God), and yes, repentance. What does repentance mean, though? Does it mean remorse? That’s not the Biblical model, so no. Does it mean empty words said to anyone who will listen (perhaps someone who is not an appropriate confidante for such sensitive information)? No, we know that’s not it either. Let’s take a peek at what our actual authority has to say about repentance.

2 Corinthians 7:10- Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death.

Pretty clear, right? This shows repentance is an understand of having done wrong, but in a Godly manner. Let’s keep going, on to one of my favorite books in the whole Bible.

Hebrews 6:4- For it is impossible to keep on restoring to repentance time and again people who have once been enlightened, who have tasted the heavenly gift, who have become partners with the Holy Spirit

Okay, that’s pretty heavy stuff, right? Repeated restoration to repentance is impossible for those who have received the Holy Spirit? If someone corrected you with this scripture without referencing it, what’s the likelihood you would even believe that it’s sound logic? I would ask if you would be likely to even think that it’s Biblical, but I don’t want to imply that anyone reading this might, you know, not accept Biblical correction from others. Okay, back to the point. The vast majority of us would usually read this, try to swallow the rapidly-drying and rapidly-growing lump suddenly stuck in their throat, and say “okay, but how does that make sense? Why?” Let’s find out.

Hebrews 6:5-6 – ⁵and have tasted the goodness of the word of God and the powers of the age to come, ⁶and then have fallen away, to restore them again to repentance, since they are crucifying once again the Son of God to their own harm and holding him up to contempt.

Now hold on just a gosh darn moment! Are you saying that God, in His infinite wisdom, knew that we would question His why and how, and then decided to (pause for a moment here, it’s a big deal) answer us in the very next verse? Who knew? Who knew we served a God who answers our questions and makes clear His desires and His commands? Did you know this? Why didn’t I know this? How many of you knew this and didn’t tell me? (Okay, so that last one is a whole separate post and probably will be the subject of many a sermon in my lifetime, so I’ll leave it alone for the moment.) Back to the passage. “And the powers of the age to come” is an entirely different doctrinal issue, so I’ll let it alone for the moment. The real meat I’m getting at here is the bit about repeated repentance being equal to repeatedly crucifying the Son of God, as well as “holding him up to contempt.”

Let’s take a peek at the word “contempt.” Dictionary.com describes it thus: “the feeling with which a person regards anything considered mean, vile, or worthless; disdain; scorn.” I’d like to settle on the word “worthless.” The Bible, in Hebrews 6 just said that when we repeatedly subject ourselves to sin, falling away from God, then respond to repentance over and over, that we are treating Christ as worthless. That just doesn’t sound good. I think I’ll try to pass. Oh wait, I don’t have to. It’s impossible.

This would probably be a good time to extend an olive branch called grace. If not to extend it, I’ll at least attempt to explain God’s view on grace. This passage (and the great majority of this post) concerns intentional, habitual, repetitive sin. (The kind of sin where you usually don’t notice it because you’ve grown numb to even remembering that it is a sin. The other option, and the one that makes more sense for this passage, is that they are the sins that afterward we recognize, and maybe even feel sorry for, but that we do nothing to reconcile. When we apologize to God, that does nothing, as the true definition of repentance is not found in remorse. More on that later.) It does not necessarily address incidental, non-habitual sins. (The kind of sins where afterward the reaction is “God, I hate that. Don’t let me do that again. Please forgive me Lord. That’s not my heart and I don’t ever want to do that. Ever.” You know, the sins that aren’t regularly in your life, so you recognize them and actually, well, repent.) God’s grace, accomplished through the sacrifice of His Son, Jesus Christ, covers this last type of sin, because we actually attempt to stay covered under this grace when we repent.

Imagine Jesus is walking next to you. It’s pouring down rain. Jesus has this super-awesome umbrella. When we’re walking with Him, we’re dry. No sweat (pun intended). No worries, right? Super. What happens if we take a rabbit trail? What happens if we suddenly start chasing after someone else or hanging out and walking with them? We become soaking, sopping, miserably wet, of course. To that end, we are living in sin. Absolutely covered in it. Repeated offenses will lead to consistent cold, clammy, angry wetness, which eventually leads to a miserable life, and probably to sickness. Here’s where repentance comes in. Repentance is a reversal of course. Does that mean instant dryness and a peachy-keen life? Of course not. Why not? Because while Jesus kept heading towards the Father because He is always focused on the goal, which is Heaven of course, (yes, He is always chasing after us, so the analogy breaks down) we were headed in the opposite direction. We have to include the economic law of loss here. Every block we were heading in the opposite direction of Jesus, we were actually moving two blocks away from him. Of course, the Lord works differently in each person’s life, but the principle applies. If we’re heading away from Christ for, say, three blocks, we are in effect six blocks away from Him when we have our moment of repentance. Let’s assume that it’s genuine repentance, so we turn and run to him. He’s still moving, so we’ll say we’re moving at twice the pace. We start six blocks away. He moves one block, we move two. Five blocks away. He moves one, we move two. Four blocks away. You get the point. Six blocks’ time for him, and twelve for us. Don’t forget the three other blocks away we were. We spent 15 blocks away from Him for three blocks’ worth of following the other trail. Now we’re back under the umbrella and nice and safe and cozy and dry, right?

Wrong. Here’s the hardest part of repentance. It takes time to dry off after you get under that umbrella. It takes time to heal. (We know that God does miracles today. I have seen it. I have experienced it. He delights in deliverance. However, more often God works through victory and processes of obedience.) Don’t forget all the distractions trying to draw you back into the tempest at every corner, every store window, and all the stumbling blocks trying to trip you up along the way. Just because you repent and run back to Christ doesn’t mean the enemy won’t try to mess with you. Getting dry is one incredible challenge. Staying dry is an entirely different animal.

Speaking of rabbit trails, I seem to have gotten myself lost on one here. I started writing this about the tears I shed today for my generation and ended up preaching for 2000+ words. Shweet.

What I intended to write about all sparked from a conversation this morning after I was asked for my opinion on tattoos. I’d gotten halfway through the sentence where I usually set up my opinion about there being a difference between pre-marriage and post-marriage tattoos when I was cut off and informed that “It doesn’t matter if it’s going to be someone else’s body someday. God will give you someone who will like it or someone who will forgive you for it. We all have pasts, you know?” I was appalled. I was completely at a loss for how someone could disrespect their future spouse in such a way. I still haven’t said anything. Not for fear, but because I know this person well enough at this point to realize that it is something God will teach in His perfect timing, because this person is growing in relationship with God and constantly pushing closer and closer. Soon enough, God will bless this person with the wisdom and prudence necessary to understand the statement uttered.

We all have pasts, yes. God forgives them when we humble ourselves and take refuge under his umbrella of grace. However, we all have futures, as well. We all have futures that we need to keep in mind, that we need to guard, just as we guard our hearts. What respect for the holy covenant of marriage do we hold if we maintain an “I can do that, my future spouse will forgive me for it or God will give me someone who isn’t bothered by it,” outlook? Even more importantly, what respect do we have for Christ if we maintain that attitude towards the holy covenant of faith in the Son of God? I think we pretty clearly covered that earlier in this post, didn’t we?

This is what God showed me today. This is what brought me to tears and indecipherable babble multiple times throughout the day. The enemy has strongholds in each of us, and the stronghold he holds in this young person is clearly one of deception as to the importance of the future, the covenants involved, the eternal consequences of every action, and you know what? It will be torn down. It will be abolished. It will be sanctified by holy fire in the name of Jesus Christ. There will be restoration. There will be healing. There will be Truth. Truth the person, the man, the god, the savior, the messiah. Truth will prevail as He always does and always will.

Hey, whaddya know? I’m crying again. It’s a different cry this time. It’s the cry of victory. A victory not yet felt, but one surely coming. Amen.

I had all my junior high boys lined up behind me that entire week, following me wherever I went and doing whatever I did. They spoke how I spoke, they laughed how I laugh, and now, they evangelize like I evangelize.

This week I’ve had three reports back from disciples I had in Yakima who are doing big things.

One is evangelizing at work constantly, being a witness to those around him of the healing power of God and of His overwhelmingly generous provision.

Another is starting a prayer group focusing on the unreached parts of the world. He said he wants me to be involved with one of the many wonderful internet chat options (I’ll probably be using Skype, as that’s the only one I use regularly). He’s also getting others in our church and town involved, as well as a few people from his travels across the country.

The third is a funny story. Here’s a kid who, as long as I’ve known him, has a passion for Mormons. Seriously, this kid’s goal in life is to save Mormons. I, on the other hand, have a soft spot for atheists, as many of you know I spent most of my life claiming to be one.

Today, I had our guys Bible study in the middle of a mall food court. We were interrupted by a couple of white Mormon missionaries who honestly just seemed like they needed some company. They have no friends here in Mexico. They don’t speak Spanish. They miss their families and friends back home. One even SAID “I’m just a lost guy in Mexico, man.” We befriended them, exchanged numbers, and I expect to be spending some time with them when we get back from the December break. I was thinking of my little duckling all day after that. Thinking of his heart for them and how it’s a beautiful and clear reflection of God’s heart.

What do you suppose he did today? He stirred the pot, of course. He took on some atheists and did exactly what Jesus would do: he loved them by challenging them. Now, he’s still learning how to facilitate those conversations tactfully and purposefully, but he’s bold enough to engage in them. I could not fully describe how much I was beaming when I found out. My little duckling is flying today. Flying with purpose and with boldness.

Afterward, I pulled him aside (aka I messaged him on facebook) and we talked about how it went. We talked about how each conversation has eternal effects and each word spoken, including the tone and placement, has eternal consequences. We talked about purposely and intently forming our rebuttals and our statements of faith, as well as delicately and tactfully forming our controversial arguments. It was awesome.

To say that I needed to hear those reports would be an incredible understatement. Because of my passions and my strengths, I often feel inadequate here in Mexico. This isn’t to say I’m useless. Rather, the ministry I invest the most into and that I’m most drawn to is that of personal development and spiritual maturity. Usually, the only people I can communicate that with are the Engage students and, frankly, they’re tired of hearing old man Jongejan blabber on about “maturity” this and “eternal consequences” that and “representatives of Christ wherever we go” blah blah blah blah blah. I don’t yet have the Spanish vocabulary or comfort level to challenge our Mexican Nationals, and our students no longer (I’m not sure many of them did to begin with) respond to my prodding, so I often simply resort to plodding along with everyone else doing stuff that doesn’t necessarily speak to my heart.

God’s provision is a funny thing. We often think of financial provision only, but He is our provider of so much more. He covers ALL of our needs, every day. He provides the breath in our lungs, the food in our bellies, the sun on our faces, and yes, He provides the reminders that our hard work has produced fruit. Fly, my wee ducklings. Fly.

There are thousands of prostitute ministries in this world, and I salute every single one of them. Certainly, some may be approaching the field without having counted the cost or without having a faint inkling of what they’re supposed to do, but they’re trying. They’re reaching out to broken women and offering the hope and the healing that only God Almighty can provide. While not perfect and certainly not easy, clean, or simple, prostitute ministries are something our Father absolutely throws His weight behind. Why? Because it’s an attempt to step inside His will for His beautiful and beloved daughters.

Here’s where our lives in Mexico get messy. Men who have had surgeries to try to look like women are not God’s beautiful and beloved daughters. Instead, they are God’s valiant and mighty sons. They are the leaders of families. They are the strength and the backbone of society. They are the governors and warriors of the people. They are sons of Adam, hand-crafted in the image of God Almighty, the Father in Heaven we are created to worship and enter into a loving relationship with. At least that’s what they were meant to be.

Instead, they are little boys tortured and sexually abused. They are cold, twisted, black hearts. They are bound and shackled by fear, by hate, by disease, by disgust, by neglect, by loneliness, by Satan. They are confused. They are hurting. They are lost. They dwell in darkness. They prowl the streets, repeatedly entering into slavery most foul. They sell their bodies and, thereby, their destinies as mighty men, for drugs, cash, or for a sense of belonging, of being wanted. They are looked upon with scorn by people of all walks. They are mocked by homeless beggars. They are threatened. They are pressured. They are hopeless.

Check that. They are not hopeless. We have a hope for them, and we once seemed hopeless ourselves. I’m reminded of 2 Corinthians 1:9-10

^“9Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death. But that was to make us^(A) rely not on ourselves^(B) but on God^(C) who raises the dead. ^10(D) He delivered us from such a deadly peril, and he will deliver us.^(E) On him we have set our hope that he will deliver us again.”

How, when we have been snatched from death (Romans teaches us that the wages of sin are death, and that we were all in sin before Christ snatched us from it with His sacrifice), though we were unworthy, how do we turn a blind eye to these tormented souls? How do we judge them? How do we condemn them? How do we determine that they, or anyone else, is beyond the hope of Christ?

Is it not our responsibility, no, our command from God Himself, to hold out hope for these men? Is it not our responsibility to hold them in prayer? Is it not our responsibility to love them at all costs? Is it not our responsibility to share the love of Jesus Christ, as well as His Good News, with them, before they are lost to the depths of Hell forever?

Of course it is. That’s not the question though, is it? We all know our responsibility. We all know our charge. What we don’t know, is how to do so. For now, it’s with a prayer-walk combined with praying at home for direction (half the group on the walk, half at home) every other Friday night. Someday, we hope to partner with a local church to physically launch this ministry (This is the Engage way. We make sure a local church is involved with our ministries so they will continue in case anything diplomatically catastrophic causes us to suddenly leave the country.), but until that point we are relegated to prayers and prayer-walking only. This is not to diminish prayer, as it is a vital part of one’s spiritual life and any ministry not covered in prayer generally serves very little, if any purpose whatsoever. However, we, as missionaries, tend to be people of action rather than people of waiting. These men are dying out there, and we want to intervene and help.

Please join us in prayers for these men, for the daily lives they lead (Who knows what that looks like? Do they have families? Day jobs? Can they even go to the store without being mocked and ridiculed?), for the nights they suffer through, for conviction and transformation, for light in their dark world, for partners in this ministry, for their safety and health, and for God to be glorified when they are redeemed by the blood of Christ. He died for them too. They just don’t know it yet.

Dear Lord, please bless these people. Bless them as they walk into obscurity, unfamiliarity, and into a clarity that is only of Your doing. Let them find hearts prepared for Your Gospel, soil freshly tilled and rife with life. Let them exalt Your name.

Dear Lord, please open their eyes. That they may see what you see. Soften, pierce, open, shatter, and remake their hearts, that they may feel what you feel and become a perfect dwelling place for Your Holy Spirit. Let them be broken like Your heart is broken by the fall of man.

Dear Lord, let me weep. Let me see the pain and the chains, the bound and broken all around me who need only to know of You and Your deep love for them. Let my eyes be opened and let Your heart pour out through my mouth and through my hands and feet.

Dear Lord, remind us daily of our deep-seated need for You alone. Let our sinful pride not hinder the work You desire to do in us and through us. Let us genuinely and fully surrender not only our weaknesses, but that which we consider strength, for it also is weakness in the light of what You would do.

Dear Lord, call to them, that they would recognize Your voice and the call to repentance. That they would heed Your command and enter into rightstanding with You. Let Your flock be multiplied fold upon fold, herd upon herd.

Dear Lord, let Your will be done. If need be, cast us aside as we stand in the way. If needed, use us in magnificent and glorious ways. If needed, speak through us and let Your name be glorified in all that we do and say.

Dear Lord, let this house be a city on a hill and a lighthouse to this city and this country. Let those who commit to time here be refreshed always, that they may reflect Your glory off of their face, with the veil of sin ripped aside.

Dear Lord, bring transformation to this place. Let Your name be lifted high and let Your praises be sung in the streets. We submit to You. We honor You. We worship You.

Amen.

I’ve been very short-tempered lately, especially with one person in the house. I seem to be looking for faults to call pet-peeves, looking for opportunities to criticize and harass, and looking for specks in this person’s eye, while I clearly have a log the size of the Florida panhandle in my own.

I’m also feeling lonely. I’m surrounded by people I think I actually enjoy, working in ministry and living in a house and supporting each other in two different schools, but I feel completely alone. I have God with me, and I know I need to be looking there for comfort, but I feel anxious. I think this stems from my unwillingness to give up my desire for marriage and to find my mate for life. I had been thinking about that for a few months before coming here, and now that I’m strictly forbidden from dating (which is a policy I fully understand and support) I’m feeling forlorn; like it’s so much further away than I want it to be.

I’m also not doing very well in school (SAGU). I’m not organized or adhering to the organization that I did set out for myself, so I fell behind and have been trying to play catch up, but all my classes suffered because of it. I’ve taken three tests in three different classes so far and did well on one, barely passed another, and I feel like I did horribly on the third. I’m trying to get caught up and organized this week, so hopefully I’ll be feeling secure soon.

I guess that’s all for now. I’m going to go hide in my room to repent, read, pray, and cry myself to sleep.

The last 24 hours have been pretty amazing. I got a 95 on my Spanish Conversation exam, then an 84% on my New Testament Literature exam, then had some dynamite pizza for dinner. Then the fun began.

Richie and Jen were busy all afternoon making a cardboard ark for El Colli the next day. When they finished that, they decided to put the rest of the cardboard to use…as robot costumes. Once we finished taping them up and drawing faces on the masks and wrapping sections of them in aluminum foil, we found our portable speaker system and hopped on a bus to have them dance battle for spare change for Casa Hogar (our young boys’ home we work with). We took a few bus trips, took some video, danced at intersections, took more video, and finally headed home. They later went back out while I did some homework. In all, we made 118 pesos, which will almost buy two pizzas for the boys. We decided we’re going to split into two teams and do the same thing next week, with me being one of the robots. It should be hilarious.

Later Friday night, we went to the center of Zapopan (our city) to do some homeless ministry. I’d never been there before and I was exhausted before we left, so I didn’t want to go. Once we got there, we immediately ran into a guy asking for prayer. We prayed with him for about 10 powerful minutes. Talk about a wake up call. There’s no denying God was moving last night and doing amazing things. That man and about 5-7 others ended up either getting saved for the first time or rededicating their lives to Christ, and at least 20 people were healed of various infirmaries and serious illnesses. One man had a hernia and a serious shoulder injury. Both were healed. I was so humbled and convicted for wanting to stay home. I’m so thankful God used me last night and I can’t help but change the way I approach ministry from here on out. I also got the chance to use my Spanish a lot, and ended up doing way better than I thought I would.

We finally got home around 1:30 and stayed up laughing and posting pictures from the day and talking until about 2. I woke up in the middle of the night with a calf cramp that didn’t go away for over a half-hour. Finally, it subsided just in time for someone’s alarm to go off in the house and keep me from going back to sleep for a little while longer. I finally got back to bed and woke up for our 6am man-time. (We have made a covenant with all of the guys involved in the program to wake up at 6am for an hour of devotions and prayer every day, no matter when we have to get up. I’ve been taking the time to do my life journal and pray over the house and for all the girls/women involved. Everywhere we go, I’m keeping an eye on them to make sure they’re safe and never in situations where they’re feeling uncomfortable or threatened, so I feel I need to pray for them as well of course!) After my devotional time, I got back to sleep for a couple more hours before the cramp came back. It didn’t last as long this time, but I’ve felt it twinging all day (yes, I’m drinking a lot of water, so I have no idea why it’s cramping up).

El Colli this morning was a challenge to start, but ended up going really well once we got started. I learned how to play handball today and I’m ok at it. We had a couple kids making trouble nonstop (Please pray for Felix. He’s the one kid at El Colli that always makes me want to quit until I remember that God loves him and wants me to do the same), but everyone else was really well-behaved today. I was Noah in the puppet show, I helped with the dance, and Hannah and I put on the game (we made the kids spin around 10 times, then put a spoon in their mouth, put a lime on the spoon, and run to someone else and run around them and come back, then had three more kids on their team).

After El Colli, we drove over near our youth center, split up into three groups, and walked around praying together for the area. It was eye-opening, heart-wrenching, and inspirational. We saw so much and so many people that simply need love. I couldn’t help but hurt and cry for those people while I was praying for them. We ended up walking through a street-market and ran into a couple of our youth kids right next to a guy who was selling magazines, including pornography. I don’t know if anyone else noticed it, but I did and was praying for those kids the whole time. I now know exactly who I’m hanging out with every week at the youth center.

Now we’ve been home for a few hours to relax before one group heads to the youth center for the night and the rest of us go to our church’s youth group. In our relaxation time, Richie and Jen and Brittany had to clean the tarps. Instead of cleaning them and putting them away, they decided to clean them, make a slip and slide out of them, clean them again, and put them away. Definitely an entertaining day. Also, we have real milk for the first time. Like in a jug. I haven’t had milk from a jug for over a month, and boxed milk just tastes wrong. We made chocolate milk for a bunch of people, which was delicious. Richie and I also made a trip to Walmart to test out my new debit card (Bank of America let me draw out over $1,100 from the ATM and at school for classes, but freaked out over a $7 trip to Walmart, so I had to get a new card) and get some food. Unfortunately, we discovered that popcorn chicken from Walmart in Mexico is quite possibly the most disappointing thing ever cooked.

Well, now it’s time to head out to church and my calf just cramped up again. I need a banana.

After Andy finally showed up and we did our devotions, we set about to some homework time, then reconvened for one final training session. We went over some info on each of our current ministries and spent extensive time explaining and preparing for El Colli, including learning the dance moves to two very catchy songs.

Later in the evening, we had several pastors from our churches over for a catered dinner. There were about 8 different taco fillings to choose from and tortillas being made and grilled fresh in front of us. The dinner was amazing and the time with the pastors was great. I met the pastor of my church and spoke briefly with him about helping with the youth group and worship teams.

Eventually, the guests all went home, allowing us to clean up and set to our real task for the day/night. There’s an area not too far from us called Plaza Del Sol. At night, Plaza Del Sol is crawling with transvestite prostitutes. We feel very strongly about helping them, reaching out to them, and sharing the love of Christ with them, so we’ve been talking and praying about how to do so. Currently, the Engage ministry model demands a partnership with a local church (The idea behind this is that we may at some point be forced to leave the country and/or be gone on extended breaks, and we don’t want a ministry to die simply because we can’t be there. Additionally, plugging people into local churches tends to produce much better permanent results.) along with an actual plan for how the ministry will operate. As of now, this ministry has no partner church and no action plan, so it consists of prayer walks in safely-large groups.

Several (three) of us stayed behind to intercede for the safety and inspiration of the rest of the group, but everyone else went and split into two groups. I was one of the people staying behind, and I can tell you we felt a serious battle is taking place in this city. I received two different visions while praying for God to speak to us. The first was of battle-ready but battle-scarred and battle-weary angels flying over Guadalajara. They had clearly been at this for some time, but were unable to land yet and take the territory. The second vision was of the Engage students standing at a bus stop staring at an empty bus (empty buses don’t exist in this city). We were each taking turns paying the driver to stay, and we were collecting the tickets to hand out to the flood we knew was coming.

When the groups got back to the house around 1:30am, we all had the sense that we would be asked to pay a greater sacrifice than we expected, but that it was not only worth it: it was our destiny. This is going to be a long fight, but one we’re proud of.

Written 8/20-21/08

V1: You are greater than all of this.

You’re creator of all of this.

You’re the potter of all of us.

PC: We are clay in Your hands.

We are clay in Your hands.

C1: (so) Mold me, Lord.

(so) Mold me, Lord.

Shape me, as only You know how.

C2: (so) Move me, Lord.

(so) Move me, Lord.

Shake me, as only You know how.

C3: (so) Hold me, Lord.

(so) Hold me, Lord.

Love me, as only You know how.

PC \

C123 > [vamp?]

C3 /