Fiji #8

Find some new pictures at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian#100053

After a week at high school camp, we are now in the airport ready for the eleven-hour flight from Fiji to Los Angeles. What an awesome week the Lord gave us. The students were attentive and soooo polite. They clearly blessed us more than we blessed them. Nevertheless, we could see the lights come on in many of the teens as we worked through the twice-daily sessions.

When asked if they would be willing to give up personal pursuits to heed God’s calling for service in his kingdom, most every hand went up. This was no small covenant. It was sealed before the Throne and we expect the Holy Spirit to do great things through these radical believers in their generation. Praise God!

We made a fun video of two of the campers and the students watched a new installment each night. You can enjoy the whole “The Amazing Thomas” video at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fiJ9EKewgu0

As we left Fiji, three different groups sang the national goodbye song in beautiful island harmonies. The words typify the loving Fijian spirit. Here is a rough English translation:

Isa, Isa you are my only treasure;

Must you leave me, so lonely and forsaken?

As the roses will miss the sun at dawning,

Every moment my heart for you is yearning.

Isa Lei, the purple shadow falling,

Sad the morrow will dawn upon my sorrow;

O, forget not, when you're far away,

Precious moments beside dear Fiji.

Isa, Isa, my heart was filled with pleasure,

From the moment I heard your tender greeting;

'Mid the sunshine, we spent the hours together,

Now so swiftly those happy hours are fleeting.

Isa Lei, the purple shadow falling,

Sad the morrow will dawn upon my sorrow;

O, forget not, when you're far away,

Precious moments beside dear Fiji.

O'er the ocean your island home is calling,

Happy country where roses bloom in splendor;

O, if I could but journey there beside you,

Then forever my heart would sing in rapture.

Isa Lei, the purple shadow falling,

Sad the morrow will dawn upon my sorrow;

O, forget not, when you're far away,

Precious moments beside dear Fiji.

Thanks for joining us via prayer. We were very blessed to be the clay jars empowered by your prayers and put to use in sprinkling the Good News about. What a great privilege! We look forward to introducing you to your Fijian brothers and sisters in person. They are such wonderful people, however, we may not get a chance to present them until the new era. Nevertheless, you are going to really love them.

Until the next trip to wherever God sends us, may blessings, peace and grace be yours in Christ Jesus.

Fiji #7

Dear Beloved Partners,

Find some new pictures at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian#100053

We are getting ready to teach a week of high school camp at Sigatoka and wrapping up our wonderful time with the church in Lautoka. It has been a huge, fat blessing. I use those words because of all the feasts. We have made excellent eternal friends. If you can, look at the pictures and into the faces and you will see why we have fallen in love with the people. Don’t miss the Fijian Fight Dance video.

Over and over we have heard how the Tree of Life Discipleship books are helping even seasoned Christians know their Jesus better.

James had two more students in his Scripture class receive Jesus plus we baptized Tomasi, one of the Lost Boys. Thomasi is the one holding the other fish in the picture--not the old man.

About the pictures:

The story on the tuna is not much of a story. Several times the lost boys offered to take James tuna fishing at sea overnight. They don’t use poles here but hand-line even large fish into the boat. Weather, timing and boats never worked out, so there is something to look forward to next trip.

Not to be totally defeated by the tuna’s, we made two trips to the wharf to buy fish from the incoming boats. When even that failed, we broke down and hooked our catch at the fish market.

Maybe the story will be more interesting next time.

At least Dani has some great stories. Below are copies of emails telling how the giving of our supporters has blessed the people of Fiji. Hope you enjoy.

About Una

Hi, just wanted you to know that I brought some of the knitting needles you gave me and found a lady here who wanted to learn. Her name is Una and about my age. We have had a wonderful few mornings visiting and knitting. She said her grandmother showed her when she was 16, but she hasn't knit since then. She had a few small balls of yarn that Mary had given her a few years back. Una showed me her knitted scarf this past Sunday and is coming on Wednesday to learn how to cast off. She remembered it very quickly. There is not much need for knitted items here because it is so warm, so I am not sure how much she will use it in the future, but we have had a great time fellowshipping over the lessons. I brought one skein of yarn with me that I am going to give her on Wednesday. You probably won't meet her when you come in the summer, she is in Lautoka which is about 45 min from Nadi where Mary lives. She was showing off her scarf on Sunday and every one was so impressed. Thank you for sharing your needles with me so I could pass them on!

Una loves to crochet and has done some beautiful pieces for the church here with small needles and crochet cotton which you can buy here, but haven't seen any yarn at all. Una shared with me her treasured collection of patterns. She has 4 books, one for knitting machines, one of cross stitch, one general craft book and one with quilt patterns. She uses x-ray film to make her quilt templates and the book has been taped so many times to keep it from tearing. I am humbled by her to think of the two boxes with lots of pattern books back home. And all the needles I have and loads of yarn. We are so blessed in the States and it takes coming to Fiji to realize it. To see it so clearly how much I have.

About Shennai

I wanted to share a story with you about how a Bible from Sequim Bible Church was used this week. I have befriended a young mother named Shennae. She has a 15 mo old son and is due with her second in about 4 months. She is married to a young man who grew up in the Lautoka church we are serving at. She was raised Catholic and is just not sure about this church. I was raised Catholic too. The Lord does prepare us in the most interesting ways. The first Sunday I saw her was 2 weeks ago and she was sitting out front of church playing with her son. He was probably a little noisy, so she took him outside during the sermon. We don't have a nursery. The Lord was prompting me to go say hi, so I did and we got to talking. I told her I was raised Catholic too, so if she had any questions, I will understand where she is coming from. I also told her that back in the states, I teach preparation for childbirth classes, then explained what that was. So if she had any questions at all, about her faith, or childbirth, let me know. Then a flood of questions about childbirth came. A few days later she came to church in the afternoon while her husband played volleyball, we just chatted. No faith questions yet, just child rearing and birth questions. I called Mary Cairns and asked her if she had any literature that she could share with me, so I could give it to Shannae. The next day Mary stopped by for a visit and brought me a whole bunch of great things, including a Bible, which I recognized as the ones you sent over with a new sticker on the front "a gift from South Pacific Evangelistic Fellowship". She didn't come for a few days, but when I saw her husband, I gave the package to him to give to her. This past Sunday they were in church again. We stand at the back door and shake everyone's hand as they leave. As she came by she gave me a kiss on the cheek and she said thank you for the Bible, we really needed that, we did not have one. I have only gotten a kiss on the cheek a few times.

So that's my story and I am sure there are many others. Thank you for sharing the Bibles. They are making a difference here.

Fiji #6

Find some new pictures at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian#100053

The first thing you will notice in the photos I have added for the great pig hunt is that there is no pig. I think this was a blessing, but listen to the story and decide for yourself.

I was cooped up in the parsonage for days working on lessons and stuff. I only lasted that long because of Dani’s patient company while she did patchwork sewing.

“I need to go hiking,” I said.

“So go.” She secretly wanted to spend a day in a personal retreat — which I know means God instead of me, but hey, I understand, “better is one day in your courts than a thousand with your husband.”

Remember the Lost Boys from Peter Pan? Well, we found ‘em. They all moved into the fellowship hall next to our house. Six live here, but about 25 show up each afternoon to live off the mango trees, howl in laughter, lift weights, play volleyball, harass passing girls and even yell cock-a-doodle-do much like Pan’s crowd. For entertainment, we only have to pull open a curtain and see what face is there and ask about the antics they are hatching.

I grabbed hold of four unemployed Lost Boys and said, “Come on, you are going to show me Fiji.”

They were happy to oblige. “We’ll hunt wild pigs,” they grinned.

I wanted to see how Fijians would provide so I brought no lunch, transportation, or map. First they pushed a single flower bloom behind one ear: white plumaria, red hibiscus or a blue morning. After a bus and pick-up truck ride into the hills, the Lost Boys B-lined for wild mango, guava and pawpaw (papaya) trees and collected a bag of lunch. Using a machete, they hacked a stick into a carrying tool and we started hiking.

Before long there were new varieties of mangos to sample, rivers to swim, young ladies to evangelize (go figure), more mangos and alas, steep mountains that were difficult for the old men in the group (me). I’m guessing we covered 10 miles at a rate of 7.5/MPM (that is mangos per mile) for a total of 75 mangos. Half of the boys wore no shoes and I could barely keep up with them.

There were also waterhole cliffs to jump from and a hot spring to lounge in. I got all proud and cocky when I was the first to discover fresh boar tracks. We followed them for a half-mile and I demonstrated my uncanny outdoor skills. The pigs turned out to be four goats bleating from high on a rock. They were not even wild goats.

That was the crescendo of the big pig hunt. Embarrassed as I was that I couldn’t tell a pig print from a goat print, I was, nevertheless, glad we did not find the beasts. The Lost Boys only had two machetes and a box of matches. I assume the idea was to find wood and roast a boar, but beating a pig to death with those big knives was not something I was looking forward to. I prefer my meat shrink-wrapped and frozen, thank you.

The boys surprised me when they pulled out a loaf of bread and tuna. We put them together with the wild fruit and had a great lunch. Drinking water was abundant from the outdoor faucet of a farmhouse.

The ancient volcano was quiet as we read Scripture and worshiped above the pale-blue sea. The Lost Boys asked me about matters of spiritual formation and drank up the replies, because, you see, these Lost Boys are not really lost at all, but found in a way most can never understand. They know Jesus, intimately, and they know it is he who provides so abundantly for them.

After another swim in another river, we had to wait out a torrential downpour under a tin porch. Blam! Lightening flashed with instantaneous thunder that made everyone jump. The rolling boom was returned by our own uproarious laughter. The machetes hacked open coconuts and the juice and white meat helped to pass the time. Ten silvery waterfalls formed on the jagged peaks from which we had descended.

After the worst of the storm passed, we shivered in the drizzle for hour at the side of a dirt road until a bus bumped and rattled us down to the main highway; Then another bus got us back to our side of the Island.

When I came into the parsonage sunburned, sore and soggy, Dani was in the same chair sewing, but she had a new glow on her face from her time with the Lord — as did I.

Fiji #5

Dani and I continue ministering in Lautoka, Fiji and God is doing great things. I am able to teach Scripture at a private school one day a week and yesterday was used of God to lead several students to receive Jesus. Thanks for your prayers, they have eternal results.

Our primary teaching is on discipleship. We are working through the Tree of Life Discipleship Series available for free at http://www.freechristiandiscipleship.com/FreeChristianDiscipleship.com/Free_Christian_Discipleship_Books.html. I have now added a booklet on what the Bible says about families and another with 10 stories for teens. The stories are discussion starters for topics of sex and drugs. The content may be a bit shocking, however, these are the issues Thrid-world students face. I'm guessing First-world students face the same bare-faced temptations, but they hide it. The materials are there for anyone to use.

From Jesus, through Jesus and to Jesus are all things.

J & D

Fiji #4

It is Dawali, the festival of lights here in Fiji. It is an Indian holiday but all Fiji celebrates just as people of all faiths celebrate Christmas in USA.

Dani and I are passing the night on our porch because there will be no sleep until the barrage of fireworks dies down. Right now, it sounds like we are in the middle of a gun range. Houses are dressed up in Christmas lights, tiny clay dishes are set out to burn oil and then there are the colorful fireworks and door-to-door passing out of sweets. It’s like Christmas, Independence Day and Halloween in one.

It has just rained and smoke from the fireworks mixes with vapor from the warm earth along with the haze of our mosquito coil. This warm, sticky funk swirls around the mango and banana trees. It is a strange and challenging environment, complete with bugs, giant fruit bats and third-world obstacles.

We are here for the people. There are lovely believers in the church we are temporarily leading and it is a privileged to help them along their journey home. As with everyplace we go, we find plenty of hurting, damaged souls. Not much has changed since the days of Jesus:

Mt 9:35 –Mt 9:36

Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, preaching the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness.

When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

Below is one of 10 stories Don wrote for the Fijian schools to be used in awareness training of at-risk children. We send this story because it is based on the true life of one of our new friends here on Viti Levu. The real ending is a combination of the two alternative endings provided. After years of forced prostitution, Mereani came to a safe shelter where she thrives today and serves Jesus. We hope her life touches you as it did us.

There are a few new pictures at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian#100053

Maybe next time we can tell you about the old man and the tuna, the great pig hunt, or bats for super.

Blessings and Peace,

James & Dani

Chapter 10 – Sexual Exploitation

Case Study – We Needed Money

At the van stop, Mereani’s mother said, “I can’t keep you honey. No money. No food.”

“Please, Mommy, don’t send me there. I won’t be a problem to you.”

Her mother stroked Mereani’s pretty face. “Sweetheart, after I find work on the other side of the Island I’ll send for you. I promise.”

There on the street, Mereani cried and didn’t care who saw her. She had heard a thousand promises from her mother over her 12 years and none of them had been kept.

Mother hugged Mereani, climbed into the van and was gone in a cloud of black exhaust.

Mereani walked into their now empty hut. She picked up her few belongings and headed for Auntie’s home.

“Mereani, you come. I’m sorry your mother left. Not to worry, we will take care of you,” Auntie Josevata said as she took Mereani’s bag and set it in a room prepared for her.

“You are welcome to our family,” added Uncle Filipe as he ate a banana in the corner, “but you will have to help us earn money. We are not rich you know.”

“Yes dear, you can work in the shop after school,” Auntie Josevata was cheerful.

The ‘shop’ was only a small used tyre shed by the roadway. Mereani hated sitting next to the smelly tyres and greasy dirt floor.

At least I can get my homework done while I’m here, thought Mereani.

There were not many customers. They were mostly poor men looking to keep their taxi or car rolling for cheap.

“How long will it take to fix my tyre?” asked a mean looking driver. His old Mercedes had a flat tyre.

Mereani leaned out the back window to see if Uncle Filipe was ready to work. As usual, he had snuck off. Probably down to the kava shop.

“I’m sorry sir,” she told the customer, “but our tyre technician has gone to town for parts. He’ll be back any moment. We can fill out the bill while you wait.”

Mereani did her best to delay the making of a bill so she could stall until Uncle Filipe returned.

A month later, Uncle Filipe said at dinner, “I don’t know what we will do Josevata. They won’t give me any more tyres on credit and we have only a few left in the shop.”

“I work my fingers to the bone Filipe, you know it. Can’t get more money for cleaning houses.”

Uncle Filipe moaned. “All costs and no income. House payment due next week. We gonna be kicked out sure this time.”

‘No money, no food, nothing but problems and Mereani to feed and school fees on top of everything,’ that was the topic Mereani heard most every night. And of course, this night, it ended right where it always did.

Auntie Josevata said, “Mereani, if that mother of yours doesn’t send some money soon, I don’t know what we going to do.”

A few days later, dinner was nothing but taro.

Uncle Filipe complained, “That’s the last. Sold the last tyres out today. The shop is finished.” He threw his hands up.

“But we got rent due, and nothing to eat. Oh, what are we going to do?

There was a long silence and Uncle Filipe moved his feet back and forth and watched them with interest.

Finally, Uncle Filipe whispered, “I hate to mention this, but it has come to desperate times.” He looked up to Mereani, then to Auntie Josevata. “There is a customer that has asked several times after Mereani. She’s a virgin, so he’ll pay big.”

Mereani was shocked. What was Uncle Filipe saying? That she should have sex with this stranger?

Auntie Josevata took Mereani’s hand. “It would save us out of this terrible mess, and it’s not so bad.”

“I, I can’t. No way. Who is he Uncle?”

“The man with the Mercedes,” said Uncle Filipe.

“Oh yuck. No way. I want to help, but not that.”

Night after night, the complaining over money got worse, and every night Auntie and Uncle ended by saying the only way out was for Mereani to sleep with the customer.

Finally, a night came when Uncle Filipe said, “Mereani, we just can’t keep you any more if you aren’t going to help us. You mother has abandoned you and we are all you have. So decide, sleep on the streets and sell yourself as a prostitute out there, or be nice to my customer and you can stay here.”

Mereani looked to Auntie Josevata who shook her head and said, “Sorry Mereani, but we all got to sell something and your pretty face is all you have to offer.”

Group Discussion

Mereani must make a difficult decision. If he she says ‘yes’ and has sex with the customer, she will lose her virginity and possibly get pregnant or a disease. If she says ‘no,’ Uncle Filipe and Auntie Josevata will toss her out of the house. She will have to beg on the street and perhaps starve or be raped. What would you do if you were Mereani?

The Outcome

There are two possible choices for Mereani: 1) Agree to have sex with the Mercedes man. 2) Refuse sex and try to find a new place to live. Let’s see what happens after each choice.

Mereani Lets the Mercedes Man Use Her

Uncle Filipe said, “I will make him promise to be very gentle.”

Mereani’s Uncle and Auntie stared at her and waited for an answer.

Finally, she whispered, “If I must, okay.”

Mereani was hurt by the Mercedes man. It took weeks for her to heal. By then, Uncle Filipe used the money to buy more used tyres for the shop and Mereani had to work as the sales clerk every afternoon.

One day a young man came by the shop.

“Hey little beauty, what’s your name?”

“Mereani, sir.”

He laughed, “Don’t call me sir. I’m only a little older than you. My name is Bola.” He shook her hand.

“Is your uncle around?”

“He is in back. Shall I call him?”

“No, no. I’ll just walk around and have a word with him.” He began to go, but leaned into the shop again, “Now don’t go anywhere beautiful.”

Mereani heard the men talking a while and then Uncle Filipe called her to the back window.

The handsome customer walked a few paces away and Uncle Filipe spoke softly through the window. “Mereani, I’m sorry we had to ask you to get money from the other man. He did not even take you on a proper date. Let me make it up to you. This man,” Uncle Filipe nodded towards the stranger, “he wants to take you to a nice restaurant. And if you stay the night with him, he’ll pay enough to keep this shop open. What do you say?”

Mereani looked to the young man but said nothing.

“Your Auntie and I need you Mereani. You have to do your part.”

Still, Mereani said nothing.

“This is not like before. This man is nice. I know him.”

Mereani thought, I already got money from the mean Mercedes man, at least this time it is someone handsome.”

“Okay,” said Mereani. “I’ll go.”

Before long, men stopped by the tyre shed regularly. They never looked at the tyres, but at Mereani. She was able to help Auntie Josevata and Uncle Filipe out of their financial problems.

Something happened in Mereani’s heart, however. She stopped caring about herself. She didn’t care who she had sex with, she used drugs and she walked with her face to the ground.

After gonorrhea and several illegal abortions, at the age of 17, Mereani died of AIDS.

“Filipe, did you go to Mereani’s burial today?” asked Auntie Josevata.

“No, I was too busy at the shop with the new girl. Don’t know if she’ll ever make money like dear Mereani, but gotta try.”

Mereani Refuses Sex With the Customer

Mereani’s Uncle and Auntie stared at her and waited for an answer.

Finally, she whispered, “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“Mereani, you so selfish. Can’t be all take and no give,” said Auntie Josevata.

There was another long silence while Mereani cried.

Finally, Uncle Filipe said, “Take your things out, but remember, you are always welcome back if you change your mind.”

Mereani stood and collected her one bag. Without a goodbye, she left out the door.

Mereani wandered for hours. Finally she found a cardboard box beside a supermarket and flattened it for a mat. She lay down on the sidewalk and tried to sleep. After several hours of crying, she decided to pray.

“Oh God, how I need help. Please God hear my prayer.”

She finally fell asleep.

The sound of cars woke Mereani when it was just light. She sat up, then collected her bag to go look for food.

Mereani was surprised to find other people sleeping on the streets. She sat down next to an old man who was just stirring.

“Bula,” said the old bum.

“Good morning,” Mereani answered.

“You are new. Where from?”

Mereani was afraid, but desperate to make friends with someone who knew the streets. “My family kicked me out last night.”

“Ah, sorry to hear it.” The man was friendly.

“Do you know where we can get anything to eat?”

The old man sat up straight. “You just watch how old Charlie does this. I’ll learn you proper begging.”

Charlie held his hand out to every passer by and smiled. “Bula,” he said to many.

Some seemed to know him and gave money like they were regulars.

After a couple of hours, he said, “I think we have enough for breakfast. Come on, I’m treating.”

As they munched on buns, Charlie said, “Have you tried the Sisters of Hope? They take in Girls and women.”

Charlie gave Mereani directions and Mereani found her way to the neat and tidy charitable shelter surrounded by green lawn and bushes.

“Of course we will help you,” said the admissions nun after Mereani told her story. “Twelve years old and they want you to become a prostitute. Well not on my watch. Come right this way.”

Mereani finished high school and became a beautician in town, all while living in the Sister’s of Hope Shelter.

Walking home from work one evening, Mereani prayed aloud, “Father above, you heard my desperate prayer those years ago. Praise you.”

Just then, she passed a young prostitute on the street.

Mereani turned back. “Sister, I know a place where you can get help and get out of this life.”

The girl said nothing but looked at Mereani.

“You don’t have to do this to stay alive.”

“No thanks,” was the only reply.

Mereani said, “I walk home this way every day. Stop me anytime if you change your mind.”

Mereani walked on. She was sad for the girl, but she held her chin up in joy as she realized, that might have been me.

My Rock

As it is written:

“See, I lay in Zion a stone that causes men to stumble and a rock that makes them fall, and the one who trusts in him will never be put to shame.” Rom. 9:33

My daughter Ashley and I set out to defeat Cathedral Peak in Yosemite. We camped at the base and started before daylight the next morning. As we roped up and donned our rock shoes, the granite tower seemed to lean over us and say, “So your back. You’d think the prior defeat was enough. Okay little people, bring it on.”

We climbed through the raw sun and howling wind. There was fear, trouble, tears, and elation. We made the top as the sun hung, by its butterscotch fingers, over the edge of the horizon. Then came the long walk down in the dark. We lost our way and bruised our feet trying to hike in thin rock-climbing shoes. This was 14 years ago, and still my toes suffer injury. Poor Ashley was stretched beyond teenage limits. Of my climbing adventures, Cathedral Peak represents my meanest tragedy and my greatest victory.

Now God puts another stone in my path: Jesus. The crucifixion of the King of the universe speaks of love so loudly it becomes a monolith in my path. There are only two choices for how I encounter this rock. I can lie down on the rock and embrace it; or I can try to run through it and be shattered. Every time I attempt to skirt around, I find myself right back on the path in front of it. It is a weird trick of film editing; whenever I sidestep, the film loops and I am back in front of the rock again. I am forced to choose: embrace or shatter.

How could transparent me ever hope to break-up solid Jesus? It is a ridiculous thought, so I chose to embrace the rock. I lie on it and feel its joy penetrate my being. Here is comfort, here is foundation, here is immovable promise. However, here also is my stone altar, and I find I am the sacrifice. The rock died for me, and now demands I die for him.

And so, this rock becomes my meanest tragedy and my greatest victory.

Prayer: Rock-solid Jesus, I choose to die and live with you.

Final Entry, #10 China

I could kick myself because I did not have my camera to photograph the final underground meetings. It was an amazing sight; so many black heads crammed together to hear God’s word. There is no shortage of on-fire Christians here. We don’t normally think of China as a Christian nation; however, the believers outnumber American Christians by about two to one.

On both Sunday morning and evening we preached to migrant worker churches. The first one was part of a network of 50 groups. Precious Chinese faces of all ages stuffed into the 20x20 foot room in the morning.

In the evening I counted 60 in the 10x25 house. Everything the family owned went up on a bamboo shelf at the back, and eight-inch high stools came out for the people to squat on. A row of believers at our feet left us almost no stage space. Bodies overflowed at the door and, when one more pushed in, the crowd staggered in mass and nearly toppled.

In the middle of the message, someone outside knocked on the plywood covering holes in the wall. Oh no, I thought, another bust? A sister slipped behind us to remove the plywood and fresh air rushed in. A welcome interruption.

The singing was awesome. These people redefine worship. In the morning I was able to get good videos because everybody was so engrossed in the Lord they did not know they were photographed.

I taught on ‘Normal Christianity.’ It is normal to feel your faith is insufficient, your trials are too big, and your sin is overwhelming. Those feelings produce the humility necessary to cling to Jesus. It went off pretty well, but after the closing prayer the translator took initiative and asked how many in the group were new believers. A large number raised their hands, so we all sat down again for sermon number two.

I went over the beautiful gospel message and baptism. Sometimes you can feel the power of the Spirit in a message. This was one of those times. Even with translation, the truth landed on both feet.

“If you understand what baptism means and you are ready to be unified to Jesus, stand up right now.”

It wasn’t the most graceful way to ask for a decision, but 15 stood to their feet; some quite enthusiastically. I invited them to my mansion in heaven and left while they organized baptisms.

So now I am in Seoul, Korea awaiting a flight to Seattle and processing the events of this trip. I picture the earnest faces pressing up toward God. I rejoice there will be so many from Asia to celebrate around our King’s throne when the new order begins.

I often functioned on half throttle. The Lord saw my inadequacy and stepped in time after time. So my big takeaway is gratitude for the faithfulness of the one I serve.

A secondary issue is with the desperate crowds that wanted me to pray over them. My response is to refuse. I remind them of their own authority to bring their requests to God.

My translator told me I upset people several times. He felt I was not compassionate enough. His assessment is right; I must be more loving. Still, I struggle with how to teach the priesthood of all believers. How do we end the cycle of dependency if we allow them to think we have a more direct line to God? It is an ongoing problem and I continue to seek better answers.

Sorry I cannot put videos or many pictures on the Internet because of security risks. The old pics are still at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian/100037

Thanks for joining me via prayer. It was a great tour.

I saw a tee shirt slogan I am making my own: When I die, I want my body used up for Jesus.

The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people.

JDC--

Entry #9, China

--Sunday morning had a funny event. In the middle of my ser___, the house-c_____ doorbell rang. In the video monitor was the face of a uniformed policeman. The brothers snatched me into the bathroom. After 10 minutes, the all-clear was called. It was only a well-dressed security guard come to say one of our cars blocked the road.

--On Sunday night, I spoke to a rowdy, good-natured bunch of poor farm workers crammed into a Quonset hut. It was in the middle of 100 huts used to grow vegetables. This rounded shed was converted to a ch____. Clever disguise. But not clever enough; in the recent past the auth__ities broke up meetings twice.

Everywhere I travel, a reoccurring thought troubles me: Do they want mi__ionaries because they smell a revenue source? As we picked our way through the mud and hand-tractors waiting outside the Quonset ch____, the pas___ forced money into my hand. These children of G__ want the truth and nothing more; everything else, they insist on providing.

--It is Tuesday night and we are on the overnight train headed into the interior. I can’t recall when I had a day off; individual faces blur into groups; I have a cold burning my sin sinuses; the train delayed two hours; we got 4 hours of sleep in 20-minute chunks. I am tired of being stared at, of people cutting in front, and the spitting, belching, cigarette-smoke-in-your-face-cultural differences.

Yesterday, I had to remind myself, ‘It is not wrong, just different.’ As the waitress assigned to our table hovered about, she busied herself by picking her nose. On the bus, the couple next to me set their toddler down in the aisle so she could pee around our feet. It is not wrong, just different.

So now I am a tried, whining grump; a cracked vessel with all the Sp____ leaked out.

But here comes the miracle.

We are headed to another province to teac_ rural leaders and I know G__ will show up. I don’t know how, or when, but by some incredible wonder, he never fails. I always fail; he never does. So let’s see how he pulls this one off.

(For this entry, I did not construct the current situation to prove G__’s faithfulness. I need him. From experience, I expect he will step in; I hope he does.)

--It is now Friday night and my work in the interior is completed. After the train, we passed through hours of rice fields, canals, and grubby towns. The paved road turned to dirt, then to muddy tracks as we bounced toward a remote village. Twice the driver stopped, studied the ruts, shook his head, then floored the minivan through the mud-hole and barely out the other side.

The village was maybe 20 houses under trees and surrounded by acres of green wheat fields. Ducks, goats, and cows outnumbered people. In the center was a two-story cement building; not worth a second glance to my eyes, but a hub of eternal-life in the spiritual realm. This is where poor believers come to receive training for leadership of an underg____d network of 6,000. The network is a decentralized c____h of sorts. It functions under a common elders__p.

I was there to provide the first ou_s___ tra__ing since the 1990’s. Only one other mi_____ary helped them. Some traveled from distant cities and they all gathered at my feet and took notes like I was some kind of alien genius. What a shame that after waiting 15 years, the only tea__er they got was tired, grumpy, dimwitted me.

With my translator, we tau__t four sessions a day and covered the supremacy of C_____, to avoid foolish controversies, to love G__ and not his miracles, the benefits of trails, and other such subjects. I tried to get across that if they hang on to J____, they don’t need the outside tea__ing, funding, or organization of the West. I don’t think they bought it.

The last session hit a wall. I was going on and on about the authority of the beli___r over dem__s and the 40 students were numb. Blah, blah, blah, blah… Several nodded off, the translator got confused, and I thought, I don’t want to be here. How can I get out of this?

I stopped, asked if there were any questions, and when there were none, sat down. The leader closed in pr__er, but as the meeting broke up, several crowded me with questions. The leader sent everyone back to their place on the floor and organized a proper Q&A period.

Somehow, someway, those questions brought out the succinct message. I said in 90 words what I had spent 90 minutes struggling against. It was easily translated and received with joy.

Isn’t it just like G__ to wait until the eleventh hour to pull off his intervention? I had given up; my mind was outside the room, and he found a way to get the critical teac_ing accomplished. I am awed by his grace.

While in the village, I had to move about with my head covered. A hat is not much of a disguise for a giraffe among rhinos (to switch continents for a moment), but the brothers were especially concerned with my blonde hair. On the first afternoon, I ignorantly went off on a walk and greeted incredulous farmers. The brothers sent out a search party and texted the translator’s cell phone for us to return asap. I have a lot to learn about the pressure they endure daily.

The women fed and doted over us. We ate in various houses, four times a day, with fruit and snacks pushed in between. At 6:30 am it is hard to face a full breakfast of seven spicy, fatty, salty dishes. But they got up at 4:00am to cook over wood stoves and replaced each slurp with more soup from the pot as we forced ourselves to honor their hospitality.

They heard I like bottled green tea and assumed all foreigners like milk. So each meal I was given two bottles of tea and/or imitation milk. One lady stripped her tree of cherries so we could have fruit on the ride home. We added them to the surplus of apples, mangos, tea, and milk.

I carried more food out of that village then I carried tea__ing in.

Belie___s in yet another province pressed me to postpone my flights and come help them. So far, I have declined, but it is hard. How do I say no to hundreds of hungry, forgotten followers of J____ that would be impacted for eternity? Who will go to them if I pass? I can only scratch the surface of the disci___ship and equipping needed here.

As I consider the requests, I must admit I am a carrier of the deadly virus of knowledgitis. The child-like followers in deep Chi__ have no immunity to this blight on faith. Knowledgeitis is the Western habit of craving unending information until it distracts us from application of the simple truths. Do I want to risk passing that disease on?

For now, I must leave when planned. Others will have to follow, or perhaps I can return on future trips. Boy, I’m glad I am not the Sav__r of the world. He has a big job.

Your friend in C_____,

JDC--

Hope you can enjoy the pics at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian/100037

Entry #8, China

I am high from the meeting of last night. We got back after midnight but I was energized by what the Spi___ did.

It was Sunday and after p____hing into the afternoon, we caught a 30 minute nap then headed to smaller city (only 5 million) two hours away. I have pre__hed there twice before in past years.

In the lesson we asked ourselves 7 questions posed by the book of Jam__.

1. Do you seek more of Jes__ during trials?

2. Do you praise Go_ instead of people?

3. Do you accept others?

4. Do your good works come from your fai__?

5. Do you speak only positive of others?

6. Do you focus on the eternal over the temporal?

7. Do you pra_ for others?

Each questions was worth 3 points and we had a great time with the challenge. Afterward, two sisters came to inquire about bapt____ and two brothers came to commit themselves to a closer walk with the L___.

A wife brought her husband for pr____. She was elated that he made a new commitment. “His fai__ has not been what it should be,” she informed me.

The man was less enthusiastic, nevertheless, he said, “I learned so much tonight. I feel like a new man.”

What makes me so high in this work is we are meeting with cell groups of 20-40 hungry bele____s meeting in sec__t, and this is the tip of the iceberg. Thousands of similar groups also meet behind closed doors and pulled drapes. All simple in their fa___, but hungry for more of J____.

In the car on the way and back, 4 hours of driving, the leaders fired questions. Should we have an elder structure instead of the single pas___ model? What do we do when we have disagreements? What do you think of the gifts of the Sp____? Is it okay for members to move around between ch______? How do we determine Go_’s will? The translator was mumbling incoherently by the end.

The generosity is amazing. They provide meals, accommodations, AND give gifts of money for t__ching. Several ch____es and individuals also gave for the work in India. All this from those who shiver in their coats because they cannot afford heating in their meeting places.

Today is Tuesday and we had more training with about 20 pa____s and leaders. The venue was not soundproof and prevented wor____ singing. A leader announced a well-known hymn, counted down the beats, and led as all silently mouthed the words in unison. It was a hol_ time, but made for a funny video.

On Thursday I spent several hours with six leaders from a congregation of 200 but decentralized over seven locations. The Chi_ese are creative by necessity. Each had an area of responsibility; each had unique problems. The pas___ struggled because of low tithing; the youth pas___ could not get his students together because they work long hours in the fields; the teaching pas___, the ev_____list, and the p_____ coordinator shared similar issues.

On top of all that, each was under some kind of personal attack. The pas___’s wife was malicious, the ev___list’s daughter screamed and fought, the teacher’s family abandoned him. By Go_’s grace I was able to give each one advice and encouragement to keep on keeping on. P___ for the Gra_e Spring C_____. They are fighting the fight, but need some p_____s.

I will end this entry with a copy of the email I received from Rufus after he left Ch___ and arrived back in India:

Dear James,

Greetings. I am very thankful and it was such a great time and I have been touched. My heart breaks and I have become too emotional and could not eat anything until I came home. I was just p___ing and have felt the touch. I am very very grateful for this wonderful relationship. I have no words to express except to thank the alm____y. I would like to extend my love and greetings to all our friends. Please tell them that I have made a commitment with the L__d and its to uphold them every day. I am doing it ever since I have begun to travel back.

Thanking you and my wishes to Dani and all our friends,

Brother,

Rufus

PS No new pictures. Next time there should be some good ones, but I can’t talk about that yet.

China, Entry #7

Sorry there is not time to give a full report, but I wanted to say thanks for the p_______. The retreat finished well. Most everyone returned to the new venue and it was better because we were all rested and ready for more.

To those who wanted our meetings cut off, I join Joseph in saying:

Gen 50:20 NIV

“You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.”

The people here are so hungry for truth and passionate in their f___h. Absolutely beautiful. Of course the World Expo is in China right now, but I have no interest; We are experiencing something much more spectacular. Wait until you see the videos of wor____ I am bringing home. It is a joy to serve these children of G__.

Various meetings are planned for this weekend and next week. I need to be careful to schedule some rest and time for sp______l refreshment for myself. Your p_____s in that direction will be appreciated.

So much good going on, I’ll try to give you better reports later. For now, if you can, enjoy the pictures: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian/100037

China, Entry #6

Thanks for the p_____’s. I had a cold at the retreat, but it only made for less of me and more of the S____.

On the hour and a half drive to the retreat, we discussed what we would say if the gov_______ busted us. We agreed total honesty was the best course; without divulging information not specifically requested.

Wow. It was a powerful time. G breathed into us and we nearly exploded. A highlight came after Rufus shared his min_____ in India and the Ch_____ p_____’s were moved to p___ for India. One rarely hears such interc_____. Tears, shouts, floods of pleas on behalf of their Asian neighbors. Several were ready to become miss_____ies to India. One asked for advice on learning English within one year so as to be ready. I saw a sister weep over Rufus and give him money to continue the work of G.

And that was only one of many great sessions. You see what I mean by wow? Three of us taught, Rufus, me, and a C___ese p_____ from California.

All 37 of us slept in a rented house at a lakeside resort area and met in a nearby Ch___ese style room above a garage. This became our ‘upper room.’

In the evening we enjoyed a favorite C___ese pastime called challenge. Someone is made to stand in front of the group and provide entertainment; a dance, song, joke, whatever. When they are finished, they chose the next victim. Most sang C_____ian songs; some formed conga-lines and pranced around the audience with Chi____ ballet moves. Rufus taught a song in Telugu that was the hit of the evening.

The second day, the owner of the upper room was questioned by gov_______ age____ about our group. The group decided it was best if Rufus and I stayed in our room that afternoon.

About 2pm, a brother came in panting, “The gov_______ has come into our meeting. They took pictures and forced five leaders to go to the station for intero______.”

He somehow slipped away to warn us and asked us to stay out of sight. A few hours latter, brother A knocked.

“We are all back now and fine. They separated us and asked many questions: who are the leaders, why are we meeting, what are we teaching?

“I told them we are here for a retreat. We all follow J____.”

The officer asked who was the teacher. I told him brother Chew is a C___ese Am____ian. The officer asked what he was teaching. I told him he taught on Mat____ 5, we are to live a ho__ life so we are the salt and light to others.

“He said, ‘Okay, enough, stop talking now.’ Then he asked, ‘Why do you suffer like this by meeting ill___ly? Why don’t you use the nice c_____ buildings the gov______ provides?’

“I told him, we want to hear teachers inspired to give the word of G___ and the official messages contr__ed by the gov_______ can not always do that for us.”

The cover of your p______ came into play when the leaders asked Rufus and me to stay out of the meeting. If we had been present, we surely would have been deported. Also, the office___ must have had reports we were involved; every eye in the town was on us since we arrived. However, the office___ did not ask about foreigners beyond Pas___ Chew. PTL.

In the end, the gov_______ said no foreigners could stay in the house, so the whole lot of us packed up and left a day early. To where, I should not say for now, but the C___ese C_____ians are like dough; the more they are squeezed, the more they ooze out to decentralized venues. And, they get more charged up for spreading the g____l of J____. Talk about passionate, whew.

So thanks for the p______. I am sure there will be more results to report.

As Rufus said, “There is joy in sacrificing for J____.”

A few more pics at: http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian/100037

Peace to you,

JDC—

China, Entry #5

Rufus and I left India and met in China the next day via separate routes, but within one hour of each other. Everything is different. We have to learn the basics of a new language, method of eating, customs, surroundings, everything. We are settling in nicely. Back in India it is 44.7 (112 Fh), while it is a comfortable 18 (64 fh) in China. We feel like the red-hot iron a blacksmith quenches in water.

This is Rufus’ first time in China so he is photographing everything from the excessive landscape lights, to frogs slated for dinner. We are sharing the p_____ing and it is a fun to hear him compare Indian customs with our Chinese friends.

We have presented to three u________d groups and many are negotiating with Peter for a spot on the schedule. It is exciting to see God at work among c_______s that did not know of the existence of the others three years ago. C________s are hungry for G__’s word; they have 100 years of sheltering to catch up on. At least, that is how they feel. I have a different perspective.

I find Chinese b________s refreshing. They don’t dilute their f____h with the centuries of tradition, legalism, and intellectualism we have in the West. They have a passionate, child-like trust in J. C_____h buildings, human hierarchies, and wars over w______p styles never enter their consideration.

So what if they don’t follow the ecclesiastical calendar, have physical assets, or stop women from teaching; they love and obey J. I am learning more from them then they are from me. Sometimes they ask me embarrassing questions like, why do you have E_____r eggs and what is Halloween about?

When I get home with the videos, I think you will be convicted with me that when it comes to worship, I am a poser.

We have a core leader training session tonight, three c______s on Sunday, and the a three-day p_____s’ retreat for Monday to Wednesday. P__y we would get out of the way and let the S move in all of these times. G is busy here, but in a city of 11 million, there is a lot of work to do.

I hope you can get to the pictures. They tell much more of the story. http://gallery.me.com/jamesdchristian/100037

Enjoy!

India Report #4

One of my goals for this trip to India was to better understand the Yanadis tribesmen for a book project. Sunday night I went with an interpreter and driver and headed out to a group of Yanadis living much as they have for hundreds of years.

This is a special people of simple, carefree souls living off the land. They are exceptionally honest and hard working. I can see why God chose them for revival. Amazing things are happening.

Yesterday I interviewed an evangelist who, three weeks ago, prayed over a deceased man in his coffin. The man came back to life. This after the body was sent home from the hospital where a doctor pronounced him dead.

My Western mind was skeptical. I thought coma, but that does not explain the timing. It was when the evangelist felt God tell him to pray that the man sat up and yawned. I missed interviewing the risen man because he is very much alive and walked from the church an hour before I arrived.

Try as I might, I can’t whittle away at that miracle.

The simple truth is God continues to do mighty works that call Yanadis out of darkness and into light.

So I spent the night with them.

First we gathered in the dirt street outside the church and sang, performed gospel magic, and told children’s stories. Many of the adults were on the other side of the village dancing; something they do for entertainment most every evening. So our little service had competition. I was glad to see the children were more interested in the gospel stories and chose to gather with us. The average age of our audience was about 8. My kind of crowd.

For dinner, we had the usual chicken curry over rice served on banana leaves. After a stroll through the star-lit huts, and chatting by the stream while fireflies dodged about, it was time to sleep.

Most everyone lay down on mats outside their palm-leaf houses, next to their water buffalos and goats. As we walked back through the village, families were lined up on the ground, ignoring our noise and sleeping away.

Three cots were set in the street, under a bare light bulb, and we lay down. No bedding, pads, or mosquito netting; but we were fine. The bugs ignored us and I closed my eyes to shut out the curious neighbors hovering about.

As dawn crept up, there was no mercy for the weary. Roosters crowed under my cot, a dog licked my feet, and an auto-rickshaw put-putted around us. Some women and children were sleeping in the church behind us and once they vacated, I went in with hopes of privacy.

After reading my Bible, I closed my eyes to pray. I tried to block out tiny sounds of others coming and going. I lifted my lids to 12 small faces sitting around me, some bowed in prayer. These children do not go to school because non-tribal students revile them. It was a bit of coup that I was able to leave them behind to find a thirsty bush.

The brothers taught me to brush my teeth with the twig of a neem tree. The wood is aromatic and the process works amazingly well.

Lovely people; it was a joy to learn their ways better. I look forward to introducing many of them to you in heaven.

Today on the way to the airport, we stopped in another village where a small crowd waited under a canopy. I preached, then Rufus got into a lather as he summed up, prayed, and sang three or four songs. Because I can’t understand the words, I can observe the Spirit moving all the better.

Then there was a transition. People brought gifts of fruit, Indian clothes, candy, and money. It turned out to be a hair cutting ceremony.

Children are shorn bald as a right of passage. I had the dubious honor of cutting a four-year-old’s hair and her one-year-old brother’s as well. The scissors were brand new out of the package, but so dull it was a chore to gnaw on the precious lambs. I think the little boy will carry a deep fear of scissors and white people the rest of his life.

Oh yes, there was another naming ceremony, but I saw this one coming and had time to pray first. He will be Phillip.

All and all a grand way to wrap up the India portion of this trip. I came away with a touch of heat sickness, but joy in my heart; those two facts pretty much summarize the two weeks.

On to China. From here updates will come through Dani and I request you do not email me sensitive info. You can respond to Dani. Rufus will be joining us for the first two weeks and I am looking forward to ministry together.

Thanks for the prayers. I realize yours is the more Christ dependant role in our partnership for the gospel. I admire your willingness to intercede. You will have many friends waiting for you in heaven because of your travail.

Lk 16:9 NIV

I tell you, use worldly wealth to gain friends for yourselves, so that when it is gone, you will be welcomed into eternal dwellings.

Blessings,

JDC--

More photos are at:

More photos are at: http://gallery.me.com/don_goulding#100131

India Report #3

Rufus picked me up in Chennai for the drive up to Nellore, the home of ALMA ministries. He couldn’t wait to get started and, even though he was sick and vomited on the side of the road (a bit of role reversal), we stopped at a village and preached to 40 evangelists and their wives. I took stock of the tiny church, the large crowd, and the sweat stinging my eyes, and asked if we could move outdoors. They readily agreed and we had a rockin’ good time under the stars.

I am sooooo glad for your prayers; I wish you were here to experience the results. An anointing falls on my inert preaching, the believers get fired up, and we worship with drums, wild clapping, and dancing. My guess is Jesus wants North Americans to be as free and uninhibited before him as these simple village Christians; but then we have our public-image to maintain don’t we?

There has not been a dull moment here in the Nellore District. We have hit so many villages they run together in my mind: Kapuluru, Gonupalli, Gandavaram, Busa Goddi Palem, Rama Teeydam, Dandigunta, Otukur, Narukuru, and Rama Puram. You have to drag your tongue around your mouth to pronounce them. A few highlights are on order.

We go out by motorcycle or car in the morning or evenings to avoid the heat—40 to 45, what is that in Fahrenheit?; I just know it is hot enough to turn this pale-skin into a potato chip. The evenings are better. You can’t see the garbage and the colored tea lights make everything festive.

There is no greater joy than to encourage these simple Christians, look into their faces, and see the joy of the Holy Spirit send out sparks. You cannot believe how beautiful they are. I have been preaching how we are God’s temple, and the shrines in every village are not. Many are recent converts from Hinduism and they are hungry to learn more of the God of love they have discovered.

Last night we dedicated a church constructed of palm branches. It is right across from a major Hindu temple. The believers are snatching souls away from Satan under his nose. It is exciting to think of how many more this new church will reach in the months to come.

After the ribbon cutting, Rufus asked me to give new names to a half dozen believers who were recently baptized. Often, their birth names come from Hindu gods or goddesses, so we give them Biblical names.

Oh Lord, what do I tell them. The congregation waited for my pronouncements. I pulled names out of the air: Sarah, Eunice, Bibleama, Mary Rani, Jacob, Joseph Raja. It is a good thing the book of Revelation says we will get new names in heaven or these poor people would be stuck for eternity with names assigned by a clueless missionary with a bad memory for Bible characters.

Kind’a the same thing happened at a baby dedication. We pulled up to the venue beside a thatched house. Tarps were laid on the dirt and shaded overhead. A loudspeaker and bright colored saris marked a special occasion.

I try to not ask too many American questions, but I didn’t know where we were going, what time, who the people were, or what my part would be. As we sat at the table of honor, Rufus flipped the pages of his Bible, so I figured I was off the hook. I relaxed and enjoyed the music, took a few pictures, and smiled at babies.

When my impatience got the better of me, I whispered, “Do you want me to pray over the baby or something?”

“Oh no, you are going to preach and dedicate the baby.”

Ooookay. Come up with a sermon. Humm, I like to use illustrations and I have a piece of red string, so let’s improvise.

Thanks to your prayers, it all worked out. Every time this happens they tell me how blessed they were by the message, but I wonder if Rufus doesn’t ignore my English and translate a more appropriate sermon. I have no idea what he says in Telugue. Whatever…we do our best and it is all on the Holy Spirit anyway.

After the sermon about babies, life, eternal temples and the like, the mother and 11-day old baby appeared out of the house. We prayed over the baby, then Rufus whispered, “What is its name?”

Oh no, here it was again. People agonize for months over their children’s names and whatever I say in the next 12 seconds is going to haunt this kid for life.

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“Boy.”

“Um, I pronounce this special, holy temple of the living God,” I stalled, “his name will be, a Bible name from the important person in the old Testament, the one who told God’s people what to do. He will be…Jeremiah.”

As Rufus wrapped up, the usual delay in my brain caught up. Wasn’t Jeremiah the prophet who was beat up and tossed into a well? Ugh oh, sorry kid.

On Sunday we hit four churches, or shall I call them ovens? The idea was to give a fifteen-minute sermon at each but how can you go all that way, see those wonderful faces, and dash out after fifteen minutes? At one church a group of young men attended because of the American and his magic tricks. Hereunto, the pastor had not been able to get the boys to set foot inside so, after I did my thing, he gave them the full gospel treatment.

“Search the world, and you will not find anybody else who has died for you,” the pastor spoke and the boys listened. “In all of history people only come to live for themselves, but Jesus came to die for you.”

The sermon hit the mark.

Afterwards, we chugged three coconuts each to replenish our liquids. Those little gems are filled with natural electrolytes.

Tonight I am staying out in a village—not even taking a toothbrush. I’ll let you know how that works out.

Praying back at you,

JDC--

More photos are at: http://gallery.me.com/don_goulding#100131