He who has promised is faithful...

     When the prospect of returning for a second year was first presented to me I met it with a host of questions. Such as how much more money do I need? How could I leave my family for two years when at the time I was still struggling with leaving them for one year? What about school and my career one day, how would that be affected? How could I in my own strength make it through another faith testing year? These along with many others led to much stress about this decision.
     I began to worry and wonder about many things that were out of my control and as many can attest that kind of worrying cannot add any inches to your stature. In fact the feeling that worrying brings is more like inches are being removed is you sink lower and lower under the pressure. In a moment of prayer a simple yet profound verse came to mind from John 14  Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. And when I think of that peace, I realize that peace was the peace that stood the test of the cross and the enormous burden of sin, without uttering a negative word and He promised that peace to me. So decided no matter what the world could bring with all of its changing attacks He who holds my life in His hands, changes not. So why should I worry? Instead I should through pray and Bible study be connected to that peace and stand firmly for He who has promised is faithful.
     With that in mind, God made it evident by providing nearly all money for the second year before I had left for the first year. So half way through the first year, I committed coming staying for the second year and after my recent visit to states, He provided that all of my needs were met and my cup was overflowing with encouragement and love from all my church, family, and friends.
    I put our God to test and He came through, just like every single time before. I can truly say the we have nothing to fear for the future except as we forget the way He led in past. So now I establish a remembrance, so that in the future in times of trouble and storm I can now turn back and recall His faithful leading and how He has carried me all the way.   

Back home, with hope to return.

Hello Friends,
   I'm currently writing from the road heading back to Tennessee. I've returned to the states for the next month. For those of you who have not read or heard about the days of my life over this past year I'll do my best to catch you up. In September of 2011, I set off to Palawan, Philippines to serve as a student missionary with Adventist Frontier Mission. I spent the year teaching high school level math to the native Palawan tribe at the missionary training school established by career missionaries Pastor Kent and Leonda George.
   During my year there, it was my pleasure to try to learn the native language, to assimilate to the local culture, and to allow God to use me to show the character of Christ to His children in that little corner of the world. I saw first hand the hand of God work in my life and in the lives of those I came in contact with. Stories of the many answered prayers and people's hearts once claimed as Satan's property reconciled to Christ could be told. I saw an active Savior fighting a real and tangible battle between the forces of good and evil and let me be one to tell you that good is winning.
At a turning point of this past year I felt called to return for a second year. Having learned the language enough to discuss things of eternally relevance and made friendships with the local people, i feel confident that God can use these tools to build up His kingdom. 
   Last year was only made possible by people who believe in missions and were willing to support God's work among the Palawan tribe. God blessed and multiplied their prayers and monies that was given to accomplish many things last year. If you don't believe me read the previous posts on this blog then ask yourself the question is this work worth supporting? 
   I appeal most importantly for your prayers because nothing is impossible when God's people pray. Secondly I ask that you would sacrifice and support me financially and take part in a plan much bigger than any of us. We'll only know the length of the far reaching results of this great plan in our heavenly home.

Palawan Energy Project

Take time to watch this video. It's about a group of Student Missionaries, who will be returning to the Palawan Project this coming summer to help with some of our serious energy needs. As a project begins to grow and reach people further and further in the dense jungles of Palawan, so increases our need of your support. By supporting the Palawan Energy Project you will play a crucial role bringing the Gospel to a people group who identifies themselves as 'the people of the darkness.' Please help us bring the Light of the World to our people here.

There's a time for everything under the sun.

What do you do with the question of death? For those of us who believe in a loving, caring God, death can prove to be a hard issue to deal with especially when it’s staring you in the face. It seems to be the complete opposite of our God. The joy He brings to a soul, the Father-like care He shows toward us, and the gift of life He has given to us; even these can come into question when we see a life cut short. Can one cope with the dark cloud that rests over them when weeping over a lost loved one? Can we be happy in times like these? Is there an answer to these questions that will lead us closer to God? I say yes. Allow me share with you a story from a recent experience of mine.

Just a few weeks ago on Friday, my day off from school, I decided to take a friend up on his offer to come help him plant rice at his farm. On American or even many Philippino farms it can seem to be an easily accomplished job, but not so in the slash and burn, mountain farms of Palawan.  I had found myself in a situation that was a little more than I was prepared for. We planted most of the morning on the side of the mountain, more comparable to a Double Black Diamond ski slope than any farm I had ever seen. My only worry leaving my house that morning was a sore back from bending over planting all day but there was no bending here. Standing straight up, you only needed to lean forward a little to reach the ground right in front of you. Sore back No, sore everything else Yes, including some nicely blistered hands. I didn’t know how long the work would take but I wasn’t sure if could last the whole day. Around noon we rested and I jumped at the offer to call it a day. So after a bite to eat I headed home.

Arriving at home I was fairly tired and it being my day off, I decided to spend the high noon hours inside and out of the sun. Initially I had intended to rest but my hands quickly got busy making a window. I had wanted to build one for a while now. Time flew by with many aimless thoughts and one-sided mental discussions; before I knew it I had finished my window. But with that out of the way, there wasn’t much else I could do and far be it from this guy to spend a perfectly nice afternoon cleaning his house. So, I decided to show up early for the Friday afternoon Bible study down at another missionary’s house.

I packed up my backpack, gathered my things, locked my door, (that will only keep out an honest man) and started down the trail. I had just left the village, when the thought seemed to shout in my mind, ‘Don’t leave yet!’ A bit startled, I did a once over of all the stuff I needed to have; cell phone, Bible, water, backpack, all was accounted for, so shrugging it off, I went on. I took about ten more steps and Whack! a small piece of bamboo made a less than comfortable impression on my leg. So I stopped and thought for a minute that maybe there was something more to that thought about not leaving. Conceding to wait and see, a little begrudgingly I walked back up to my house, opened the door, and started cleaning. Assuming whatever the reason, having a clean house in preparation for the Sabbath would be a good idea. I did my neglected chores and finished up with the dishes and just as I was pouring the used water outside, one of the village children shouted a greeting to Napthali, a Philippino missionary here at the project.

He rounded the corner of my house and the first thing he said was, “Can you help me?” He was carrying two small children, one in a basket strapped across his forehead and the other in his arms. They had been brought to the clinic a few hours before and needed to be carried out to the hospital in the lowlands. Their mother who followed close behind was carrying her third daughter, all three of her children suffering from typhoid in varying degrees. Her middle daughter, age 3 and doing the best had only been sick for a few days. The baby she carried in her arms was worse but her condition wasn’t anywhere near the condition of 5 year old in the basket who was drifting in and out of consciousness.

I grabbed a bottle of water and we set off, Napthali in front with the three year old, I followed carrying the basket and 5 year old, mom and the baby trailing behind, with a family friend accompanying. Climbing to the top of the first ridge I began to hear the little girl moaning and decided we needed to stop and check on her. When I turn the basket around I could see that having lost all of her strength to keep herself up-right, she had crumpled over in a position that was making it hard for her to breathe. So we straightened her back up, resituated her, and before setting off again we paused to vocalize our already ongoing prayers. Walking again, the groaning persisted and began to worsen with each step, but having seen the urgency of the situation we picked up the pace.

Her moaning became worse and worse so we decided once again to stop and check on her. When I turned her around I saw that she had twisted over again, and while trying to resituate her I could feel the frailty of her body. Her breathing was very labored and every breath seem to be a struggle. Her body and face showed the wear of fighting this sickness for two weeks with little to no food. It didn’t take a health professional to see that this little girl didn’t have much time left to live. Thinking it might help, I wet a bandanna and wiped her head to cool her off. This time our prayers became more urgent as we pleaded with God over the life of this little girl. The mom caught up behind us as I was lifting her and the basket and so we continued on.

Her moaning was weakening as my steps were quickening. We passed the bend in the trail leading us to the top of the last ridge and before descending 1,000 feet out of the mountains. After passing over a small creek, I notice that there wasn’t any sound coming from behind me. We stopped again, this time turning around to see a limp body hunched over in the basket. I reached down the feel for a pulse and there was still a notable heart beat so we decided to take her from the basket so that Napthali could carry her in his arms. As he held her, Napthali admittedly said, ‘She dead.’ But having felt the heart beat I reassured him there still might be a chance. The mother was standing behind me as, Napthali was holding the limp body, gasping she asked, ‘Is she dead?’ Turning without an answer we pushed on.

Coming to Parina, the halfway marker, we stopped one last time to pray and this time we prayed, ‘God, increase our faith so that we can see Your power.’ With as much haste as the trail would allow we started to descend. Not much time passed and we had made to it the creek marking a third of the way down the mountain. We stopped and checking her pulse again I felt nothing. We both could smell that the body had moved its bowels, assuring us that she had in fact died. We talked about it for a moment and Napthali decided to carry the body back to the mountains to be buried in the small graveyard in the jungle next to our clinic. The mom having then caught back up with us asked again, and this time we answered, ‘She’s dead.’ The mother’s countenance dropped and tears began to rush from her eyes as she wailed over her child’s lifeless body. I couldn’t help but do the same as I listened and saw as she embraced her child for the last time. Napthali reminded her of the importance of getting her other two children to the hospital and reluctantly she separated from her child. I could only imagine what the breaking of that bond between mother and child must have felt like.

Our pace slowed down to a walk and the moaning of the dying child had been replaced with the cries of a sorrowful, grieving mother. Each person we passed on the trail seemed to remind her of her loss as she would again break out in tears. We made it down to the meeting place and waited a few minutes for the trike to arrive.

I had been praying the whole way down for this woman and was also trying to make sense out of what I had just seen. But now as I saw the mother sitting there holding her two children, I began to pray all the more for her. She asked me if I would be going with them to the hospital and sadly I said, ‘No, but that there would be someone there to meet you.’ As we sat there an unexpected person walked by, it was one of the Christians from the lowlands and she began to speak with the women, not knowing what had happened. But as they talked she discovered her recent loss and the reason for her grief. She then did what I had completely forgotten to do, but I know now could have only come for another mother. God sent that woman to encourage her and tell her that heaven was very close and that Jesus was coming back soon. She told her that she could pray to Jesus, and that God would help her and comfort her through this trying time. A little later, I sent them off on the trike and watched as they disappeared down the road.

I turned and started hiking, now for the first time realizing how exhausted I really was. Having mixed feelings, I began to pray out loud asking God why that had happened and why things had turned out the way they did. Just then I looked down at the ground and saw a dead, trampled, at one time beautiful, red flower, without a bit of life left in it. Looking at it, I thought of the little girl who had just passed into death’s sleep. ‘What a loss,’ I thought, ‘of something so beautiful.’ Lifting up my head, I saw the long row of bushes along the side of the road that it had fallen from, covered with bright red flowers shining with the glow of the now setting sun. They were living testaments of their Creator, their praise and adoration for Him were almost audible. What a contrast, to the silent, lifeless flower lying at my feet which was a sad but true testament of the degradation that sin causes.

In that moment the lesson was driven home, that there is only one explanation for death and that is sin. The reason that little girl died can be traced back to the cancer of sin that has been killing our planet for six thousand years. There is all around us the evidence of this death causing disease. The Bible reads, ‘the wages of sin is death’ both spiritually and ultimately physically, it is what causes all the hurt and sorrow in our world and universe. But in the same verse, we find the promise of hope, ‘the (free) gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.’ And just like my friend told the grieving mother, that ‘gift’ is very, very close. Praise God and His son Jesus for giving us the answer to ‘Why is there death?’ and for being the answer for eternal life.

Update since writing this story:

The following Saturday night the mother lost her youngest child to Pneumonia. Please remember her in your prayers.

BUZZZZ! OUCH! HAHA!

Palawan is covered in plants and trees that bear delicious fruit year round, pineapple, bananas, coconuts, avocado, assorted berries, but one of my very favorite are mangoes. Yes while ripe mangoes are usually my favorite, but I've grown to like green mangoes. Although they are a little sour with a little salt they become quiet enjoyable. The only down side is that green mangoes don't fall from the tree, only ripe mangoes do. So in order to get them you need to climb.

One day while returning home with the children from my village, we were passing under a a few mango trees and decided to stop for a snack. Dyubim and I climbed up and started shaking the branches to cause them to fall. Things were going great, mangoes were dropping one after the other to the kid below us. Moving to another branch, I began to shake it but the mango wouldn't come lose, so I did the obvious thing, shake harder. Bad move. What I didn't see was the bee's nest further out on the branch. That second shake sent a number of angry bees, stingers first, straight toward me. One got me on the crown of my head, another on my hand, but the one that brought the most swelling and later much laughter to all who saw it, was the bee that selected my upper lip as his target. A little swelling at first turned it to something....well just look at the picture. PS: Jungle remedy for swelling: heat a banana leaf over flame for 3 second and directly apply to swollen area. Thanks Meyini.

Lesson Learned Part 2:Blessed are the Hungry!!!

Please, read previous post first or none of this will make since. But if you’re too lazy I’ll sum it up for you. Recently, I learned some very good insight on the Palawano mind set in particular and how they value food in the survival situation they call their lives. The words they use to say they are full (no longer in need of food) implies that they are living and have what they need to survive until the next meal whenever that comes. Now that you’re caught up I still encourage you to read the previous post.

As I was processing the epiphany and wondering the lengths of its implications, my mind was drawn to the spiritual implications. I’m sure you are aware of the illustration that Jesus used in the institution of the Lord’s Supper. In Mark 22:19 Jesus took bread and broke it saying, ‘take, eat; this is My body broken for you. A piece of which was given to each disciple signifying that a piece of Himself is given to each one of those that follow Jesus. They took it and ate all of it. And we follow in their example, breaking bread in remembrance of Him. Now anyone who has participated in the Lord’s Supper knows that the small cracker comes nowhere near filling the stomach and more over, you would die of hunger if you didn’t eat anything else until the next time your church did the Lord’s Supper. Obvious, I know, but consider this with me. How often do we take only a small cracker size bit of the Jesus and expect it keep us alive until the next sermon or next time boredom leads to pick up a Bible and to a get fresh spiritual meal. It is no wonder we often find ourselves starving for food of the spiritual sort.

Taking of this spiritual meal, the bread, signifying the character of Jesus, and the wine, the forgiving and atoning blood of Jesus, is to be a daily process. The promise in Lamentations 3:22, 23 says that ‘His mercies are new every morning’ old wine will sour and ferment and old bread will mold and rot away but not these; they are fresh and new every morning. We sing a song that says ‘There is a fountain filled with blood drawn from Immanuel’s veins.’ Indeed there is a fountain springing up from the Author of Love representing the sacrifice given to redeem us. It pours out to all, as a free gift waiting for us to accept it and washes away ‘all our guilty stains.’ In John 6:35 Jesus says ‘I am the bread of life.’ The only source true life is living in a relationship with Jesus Christ. There is no substitute, to have live: is to live with Jesus in our hearts.

At my last job had an accountability partner and each morning we would jokingly asked each other if we had eaten ‘breakfast’ yet. If not we’d stop there and pray together and if time allowed it we opened the Bible together. Now that joking exchange has a new meaning. Just like our temporal hunger our spiritual hunger is a gift from God to keep us alive. If it wasn’t for the sensors and reaction in our body to remind us, like I did with my friend, we might miss out on meal after meal. First we salivate, then the stomach growls, and eventually we suffer fatigue for emaciation, all of these are our body’s trying to send the message to the brain, ‘we need food!’ Similar signs can be seen in a spiritual hunger. When some external stimulus trigger a thought of heavenly things, a beautiful flower, the love a mother to her child, or God’s providence in our lives, I would relate that to salivation, a simple reminder. When our thoughts give way to doubt, and our faith wavers, when we see the result of sin in our lives, this is where our spiritual life is growling, and showing its apparent need. When it seems like the walls of life are closing in, our attitude has given way to anger and pride, and when there seems to be no hope, our spirits are suffering fatigue from spiritual emaciation.

Wherever you are today salivating for a delicious meal, growling within as the last meal has long passed, or maybe it’s been so long you can’t remember the last time you were full. My prayer for us today is that our appetites would lead us to Jesus Christ who says, ‘Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.’ ‘He who comes to Me shall never hunger, and he who believes in Me shall never thirst.’ Matthew 5: John 6:35

Lesson Learned.

As an AFM student missionary we are sent out with two main goals. The first is to fulfill the call that we’ve answered. When a person signs up with AFM they go through an in depth interviewing process with the intentions to best match them with one of the available calls. Once you have chosen from a more specified list it is then understood that supporting the existing mission and the career missionaries will be you main objective while in the field.

The second main objective you are trained to accomplished is language acquisition. A large part the month long training course at AFM is spent practicing the skills necessary to acquire a language in the most effective and efficient manner. This can prove to be one the hardest things, both to train for and later to accomplish, as a student missionary going to the only people group on the planet who speak this language. Most situations require a completely different understanding of grammar, pronunciation not found in western languages, and a great deal of culturally specific conversation styles.

For me it sounded like a daunting undertaking but after much prayer and Bible study I found this. The origins of the language were a result of sinful distrust in God, which then led to the separation of peoples only after they attempted to defy God in building the tower of Babel. (Genesis 11) Because of sin God had to separate the human family. But the plan to redeem that family and eventually to bring it back together at the great heavenly family reunion involves overcoming the separation of language and culture to seek out the lost members of the family of God.

In His closing words to His disciples Jesus says, ‘And these signs will follow those who believe, in my name…they will speak with new tongues.” Mark 16:17 So what this means to me is that Jesus promises that through the teaching power of the Holy Spirit those that believe in Him and go into all the world will speak the Good News of peace to the fellow man in new tongues.

So with this promise in mind I set off to speak with confidence and to take personal ownership of my language learning experience. Now, nearly 7 months have passed of embarrassing mispronunciations that included saying, ‘I have a door on my arm!’ when trying to say ‘I have a spider on my arm!’ (lellangewan meaning door and kelelawa` meaning spider) That or saying ‘I have a serious joke for you.’ instead of saying ‘I have a serious question for you.’ (ungke` meaning joke and ingku` meaning question.) Learning mistakes like those and many other, I have nearly filled a small composition notebook with vocabulary and phrases.

The most interesting part of language learning is the small insights on culture you pick up while practicing. It really caught me off guard when I learned they used the same words for saying ‘I am living now.’ and when they tell someone that they’ve had enough food like, ‘I’m full now.’ The phrase is ‘Mebiyag ku ne.’ Like many culture insight they take a while to develop and grow in your mind until you realize the implications behind what you’ve learned, followed by an epiphany. So I’ll explain:

For a Palawano the main goal of life is survival for not only you but your family and friends. Meaning to have a house to call home, healthy family and friends, and food in everyone’s stomach is enough to be more than thankful for. Once I understood the implication behind how they value life because of how fragile it is here in the mountain, I started to appreciate even more their invitations to share food with each other. In America we’d be sharing just another thing from the pantry, but for a Palawan they are offering to share a part of their life with you. It’s a large part of their love language and they are showing you that they really care for you.

Finding your way into a Palawano’s mind and intellectual belief system can only be accomplished when you have a place in their heart. As a wise person once told me, ‘No one cares how much you know, until they know how much you are care.’ The way you show you care for a Palawano is with food. Therefore, the way into a Palawano’s heart is through their stomach. The lesson of Abigail’s actions in 1 Samuel 25 ring true, where she got through to David’s vengeful mind and later found a place in his heart was through appeasing his stomach.

Lesson learned and applied, and now I wonder what’s next in the vast open ended mysteries behind these people I love so much.