A Union to Remember. 

I am not much of a writer, being fundamentally a nerd, but my dear wife, Cammy has strongly encouraged me to blog something, so here goes.  I thought I would start by describing, some of the events, a bit of what our days are like, then go into how things are going with our mission

We began our trip from Managua in a ten passenger, single engine aircraft.  The flight is a good hour over very unpopulated terrain.   Having been a pilot I wondered if we lost power if we could find a landing area to safely glide to, as it seems there are no smooth fields or roads insight?  I had visions of our landing gear getting stuck in brush as we descended and cartwhelling; but of course someone far greater than the pilot or I is in control of this trip.

We arrived at the church compound and Pastor Earl moved to show off his orphanage.  There is little question this is a large blessing to the community and a physical manifestation of this Godly mans love for his people.  Next Pastor Earl wanted to show us the lunch program his church partially supports so we drove out at roughly noon to this open-air facility with wood benches and a rush of kids ranging from maybe four to twelve.   What was remarkable about the encounter was the way so many of them boldly came up to shake our hands or just touch us.  Without question they want for human connection.  Some of the stronger guys picked up the kids and whirled them around; it all was a beautiful noise. Arriving it was a joyful and warm embrace, but as we left something pulled in us as we wondered what kind of life would these dear children ultimately have in a city with 80% unemployment

The pastors were held up for the first day due to some mechanical difficulties with their bus so we elected to make the drive to Batena.  The drive was more like an off road Disney ride due to the fact we were traveling in a Land Cruiser on torn up dirt roads with a young man who had developed driving prowess that combined high speed and skilled touch pushing all limits but still maintaining good safety.  Batena is the farm where Austin Fricker has miraculously transformed ten acres of land from a barren plot where you would have needed a micrometer to measure the depth of top soil into a robust garden; truly amazing. 

Our first day with the river pastors arrives.  We begin each day with braving cold showers.  It definitely gets our hearts started while also reminding us how much we take for granted with our amenities at home. I am bunking with my dear friend John Harrell, which has been a blessing to me.  Once we pull ourselves together, dawn our bug spray we step out of our nice cabin, into what you might expect - humidity that instantly makes you think you will need a shower within the hour.  Nevertheless we make our way up from the base of the compound to a large building, with supersized screen doors, and paneless windows; which I think doubles as a classroom.  This is where the Elders and those who have accompanied them gather to share a meal; food has been great by the way.  It is hard to describe the sense of fellowship and joy in the air, as we sit down to eat and start our day. During a few meals we have gone around the table individually answering very penetrating questions - authored by Jeff Wirth now famed for asking groups deep thoughtful questions. The sharing and transparency has been awesome; resulting in us all feeling closer and more trusted. 

Following breakfast we trudge our way to the Verbo church. As we traverse the dirt walkway, negotiating large branches to keep from tripping we pass girls and boys on their way to school in crisp clean uniforms.  What a beautiful people. Their skin has a rich milky brown color that almost radiates.   It is clear as we make eye contact they are struck curious; yet to their credit invariably muster a smile or a nod of welcome.  I have always felt that the Latin people exuded a natural, unassuming grace - the Nicaraguans have been just one more example.

Getting to the church, we rush in to be robed by air conditioning and find a large worship center studded with a good quality sound system, a couple of projector screens and a sea of white plastic chairs.  We of course start with a quick prayer and spring into worship.  The music has been amazing.  Notably, almost all the songs they sing are precisely the same ones we do. i.e. Blessed be His Name,  This is the air I breath,  Lord I lift Your Name on High, etc.  What a true pleasure it has been to worship with these people.  Even though most of the words were in Spanish or Miskito many of us sang along awkwardly trying to pronounce the words–even though we were clueless to the meaning.  Pretty sure the Lord would be Ok with that.  As our fearless leader, Steve, pointed out this experience is just a foreshadowing of what it will be like in heaven, when peoples from every walk and origin will sing our Saviors praises in total unity and harmony.  I know kind of mind boggling to think about

As I am sure most everyone knows our mission here is to train pastors on the process of making disciples; an adventure indeed.  John and I have seven men in our group, five pastors and two disciples.   Most of these men have travelled two days by boat and then another day by bus to attend this event.  Each of the pastors our leading churches between eight and twenty people.

We began characteristically by getting to know each other, sharing typical facts and prayer requests.  The training format is we begin by story telling, move to dissect that scripture in our groups and then discuss the discipleship process.  The story telling has been a rougher time than I would have thought but the “D” process has them mesmerized.  These men who come from very primitive environments, surrounded by violence, hammering out an existence, as plot farmers are immensely excited to learn how to become disciple makers.   In so many ways they have been an encouragement to me.  It has been a true honor and privilege to pastor these humble brothers in how they could better build our Lord’s kingdom in their villages.  

Marvin, our interpreter has been a huge blessing to the entire group, he is very bright and has recently turned his life completely to our Savior.   The language barrier is obviously the biggest hill to climb but these men also fight battles I am confident we can’t fully relate to: for example, witchcraft, and the “eye for and eye” code many Miskito tribes still sport.  One of the pastors asked for prayer because his brother was being sentenced that day for murdering a man who killed his son.  He got twenty years.  So vengeance reigned but in the end compound suffering is visited on both families.

I wish I could share some of the life stories of these men with you, but maintaining confidence prevents me.  Suffice it to say many of them have been through intense trials that would easily daunt many us.  Yet they have come.  Come to study under us.  Come to learn how to be better leaders, pastors, husbands and fathers.  As one-river pastors commented we are like the Apostle Paul to them, bringing truth and knowledge of how to be a better Christian.  That is an obvious overstatement but the comment I think does express how deeply grateful these men are for our investment in their lives.

Today, Friday, is our last day and it has been a great commencement.  We spent the morning story telling and then reviewed the key parts of the Discipleship process.  John and I are both delighted in how much these pastors have learned and will take away to their respective villages.  Finally we closed our time together in prayer, encouragement with a topping of some more good worship music.  Surprisingly, we were touched as we watch several pairs of these men of the river pray with each other - in lieu of pushing their chairs next to each other and bowing their heads to pray, like we would have done, they turned their chairs at each other and grabbed each others heads butting them together and prayed and prayed and prayed.  When they were finished both men were crying.  Simple men who easily, and deeply connected to God and each other with the emotion of a child; this time they taught us. 

As I prepare to leave these remarkable people and this land of grecos, poverty, and simplicity I can’t help be awestruck at the work God is doing in this desperate patch of His planet, or at the plan He had for this band of very fortunate, professional American’s to travel so far, to share life, truth and love with a people of such need.  It truly has been a union to remember.