Winter 2008 NewsletterOur print newsletter is in the mail, but if you’re afraid that it won’t arrive in time for Christmas, you can get the electronic copy here at disciplemexico.org in advance. Just click here or on the photo to get up to date.

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The following is a sermon that I preached last Sunday. I felt that I wanted to share it as well with you.

While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
–Luke 2:6-7

The temperature has dipped and another page on the calendar has turned. The holiday sales have begun, and the bonuses are being paid (“El aguinaldo” or 13th month of pay is a right of the worker in many Latin countries.) It’s official, the holiday season has begun. In our house, the tree is trimmed and the manger scene has been set as our thoughts turn toward December 25th and the celebration that is Christmas.

Still, though, I’ve been wondering lately. Although it seems that this is a season that we anticipate from the start of the year, could it be that it has caught us unaware? Although we’ve made the preparations in our homes and our budgets, have we overlooked Christmas in our minds and hearts? Will Christ be relegated to the outer confines of our lives because there is no room for the what He desires to bring into our lives?

Two thousand years ago, Jesus left the glory of heaven to become flesh and live among us. God literally broke into history to take up residence here on earth. Luke allows no questions about this fact, dating the time, “in the days that Caesar Augustus issued a decree” and the place, “Bethlehem the town of David,” that Immanuel, God with us, was born into this world.

The God who fills the heavens had come down. He who in the Old Testament could not be approached but once a year, and only then according to a strict ritual, had decided to take up permanent residence among us. He who invoked fear in the hearts of His people who dared not come near to the Mountain of the Lord in the book of Exodus, now invited this world to reach out, to touch Him, to hold Him near to their hearts.

Still, we read that this God-child received a less than wholehearted reception. Instead of a royal palace and a team of mid-wives to ensure a successful delivery, his birthplace was a less than accommodating stable. Luke, the physician, mentions no attendants at the birth of the Savior, instead we see the image of a solitary woman wrapping her new-born in the cloths that she could find and placing him in a bed borrowed from the animals that dozed nearby. A misfortune wasn’t it, that Joseph couldn’t find a spare room on this night of nights, or was it? Was the holy family turned away because they lacked reservations or because the innkeeper simply didn’t want to receive the new-born king?

No room could mean a lack of space, but it could also mean discrimination. The Jews during the time of Jesus followed strict laws of ceremonial purity. Those who desired to worship had to follow a strict dietary code as well as avoid situations–sicknesses and certain household uncleanliness that would contaminate this purity. One of those situations that a faithful Jew needed to avoid in order to maintain their ceremonial purity was the birth of a child.

The woman who gave birth during this time would be unclean for at least seven days. For those seven days, she would have to withdraw herself from contact with others. Those who were unfortunate enough to have contact with her would be subjected to a bath and be unclean at least until the end of that day. So it would have been in the best interests of any self-respecting businessman or head of the household, if in fact the inn was nothing more than a guest room, to shut out the hassle and potential contamination that a first-century birth would bring. Therefore, it is a distinct possibility that the conditions that Mary and Joseph faced were brought about because the people who received them just didn’t want to be bothered.

The shepherd boy: Truth or Fiction?

The shepherd boy: Truth or Fiction?

This certainly seems to work together with the surrounding details. Directly following the account of Christ’s birth we read of the angel’s announcement to the shepherds. For this reason, our Nativity scenes usually include a rosy-cheeked boy with a lamb around his shoulders–a placid picture of what we consider a pleasant occupation, but reality presents a different situation. Shepherds in this day were the outcasts of society, a smelly dirty lot, so disdained that they were inadmissible as witnesses in a court of law. And therein lies the irony, who better to witness to the birth of an outcast king than this society of outcasts?

There we have the original Christmas scene. Jesus, God made man had come down, but instead of receiving Him, His own people shut him out. They looked on Him as a problem to be avoided, a situation to be deal with instead of a King to be worshiped.

Over two-thousand years have passed since that day, but still the question nags me. Have we truly received the Christ that we celebrate during this season, or have we continued to shut Jesus out in the cold? Of course, it’s possible that each of us place the nativity scene in a central location in the house, and we might proudly wear our buttons that read “Jesus is the reason for the Season,” but does He still exist on the fringes of our lives? Many of us adore the child of Christmas, but have we prepared ourselves to receive the Christ of Christmas?

A case of mistaken identity

One time, I was walking on the campus of Evangel University. I was working there while a group of Chi Alpha campus pastors were meeting. In this group were several that knew my twin brother, Mike, but had never met me. On this day, as several members of this group approached me, they began to greet me as if we had know each other for some time, but I was, in their eyes, oddly silent, unable to return their greeting. When I asked them if perhaps they had mistaken me for my brother, they thought that I was joking. Only when I produced my driver’s license did they understand their error.

How do we see the Christ of Christmas?

How do we see the Christ of Christmas?

Perhaps, as we get closer to Christmas, we’ve committed the same error. Perhaps we’ve mistaken Jesus for someone He isn’t–a baby and nothing more, or much worse just something to fit into our schedules that are overwhelmed with activities, gifts to buy, and family to visit.

Jesus is so much more than that, but in order to find out who this Christ of Christmas, we need to open our Bibles to the ninth chapter of the book of Isaiah and the sixth verse. There, we find the hope of a Messiah that the Jewish people had, and there we find the complete identity of the Savior whose birthday we celebrate.

For to us a child is born,
to us a son is given,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Wonderful Counselor (With recognition given to Dallas Willard for much of this content.)

The age in which we live is called the Information Age. CNN the 24 hour news network has as it’s tag line, “Because you need to know. Always.” (Translated tag line from CNN en español.) Those that know, win. Those that don’t, lose. Therefore, when we look for someone who can give us advice, we usually look for those who are the most up-to-date in our area of need.

But what happens to Jesus in this Information Age? If he remains as a baby in a manger, we push him aside. Statistics state that the majority of Christians don’t consider Jesus as someone who has reliable information about their lives. Not even one in a 1,000 people would describe him as well-informed, brilliant, or intelligent, but could we imagine that Jesus could be Lord if he wasn’t intelligent? Being divine, could he be dumb? I believe that our response has to be no.

Like Isaiah says, this child, our Savior Jesus Christ is the Wonderful Counselor. Paul the Apostle says that Jesus is the one in whom is hidden all of the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. Still, how do we accept Him in this way if we’ve lost our respect for Him as one who can inform our present situation? We can start by letting Him redefine our existence.

During the Christmas season, I believe more than the rest of the year, we experience the struggle between the world’s way of thinking and that of the Bible. The world tells us that the children that have the most gifts are the happiest, as are the parents that are able to buy them, but in this commercialization of Christmas, we can see the world’s philosophy–the lust of the eyes and the boasting of what man can do–creeping into our hearts and minds.

On the other hand, Jesus says to us that we are more than our bank account or the sum total of our possessions; we are eternal beings that need to know God more than the latest fashions. Therefore, if we really are eternal beings, we must understand that true happiness doesn’t come from what we can get at Wal-Mart on Black Friday but instead from our growing dependence on Christ’s counsel for our lives.

A stanza of the hymn “The Steps of the Master” reads:

I want to follow the steps of the Master.
I want follow my King and my Savior,
And allowing Him to mold my character
I sing with joy to my Redeemer.

When we reach the point of recognizing the Christ of Christmas, our Wonderful Counselor, we won’t only sing these words, we will live them.

Mighty God and Everlasting Father

This seems to be the paradox of all time. How I wish that I had been with Isaiah when he penned the those words. How can a child be God Almighty and a baby the Everlasting Father? Certainly the innkeeper couldn’t understand that the child that Mary carried was his Creator. If he had, he certainly would not have denied Him a room on that day.

Jesus’ neighbors couldn’t recognize this either. When He taught them, years later, in his hometown of Nazareth they marveled at His words and asked, “Isn’t this Joseph’s boy?”

Even His disciples, those who had placed their faith in Him, failed to understand who He was. Philip, one of the twelve who had been with Jesus from the beginning asked, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough.” He couldn’t see that Jesus was, as the writer of Hebrews tells, the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of His being, sustaining all things by His powerful word.

And we as we unwrap and hold that porcelain figure of the baby Jesus in our hand we are just as incredulous; how can it be that this baby so beautiful, so innocent, can hold together all things? We forget the fact that this child grew to become the One who fed the multitudes, the One who healed all those who came to Him. The One who defeated the powers of darkness, humiliating them by His death on the cross, and the One who triumphed over even the grave with his resurrection on the third day. We take Him for nothing more than a baby.

Maybe it is for this reason that He remains in the perimeter of our lives. We have problems with our health, our families, our faithfulness, but we have the tendency to hide it as if we were trying to hide candy out of the reach of a child. Have we forgotten that the child that was born on that night was God Himself? Have we forgotten that He still lives and is waiting to help us, to guide us along the path that we should take? Have we forgotten that this child is the One who knew us even before we were born?

Prince of Peace

Imagine the scene. Jesus had arrived, and what’s more, He arrived early. There was so much to do: dishes to wash, a table to set, food to prepare. And, instead of helping, it seemed as if everyone had sat to hear Him talk. This was the situation of poor Martha.

In the manner that Luke describes it in the tenth chapter of his gospel we can almost see her going in circles in her kitchen. “But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made.” And the frustration grew with each circle until she exploded and said to Jesus, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

But Jesus’ correction reveals the problem:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Christmas can be a season of stress much like the first two thousand years ago, but now, instead of a census that calls us to travel, the calls of relatives urge us to leave. Or maybe it’s our turn to host the family. We have to prepare the house, buy the gifts, and make the traditional meal, all in order to celebrate this special holiday. We’re upset, worried about lots of things. Maybe we’re lacking peace because we haven’t recognized this Prince of Peace. Like Martha we treat Him like any other guest when in our home is One who can calm us and speak to the storm, “Quiet! Be still!”

Thinking about my attitudes, I have to admit that I’ve failed to recognize the One that we celebrate each Christmas. There are times when I act like the innkeeper, worried more about completing my list of chores than about preparing a place for my King. It bothers me that Jesus might yet remain outside of His central place in my life, but tonight He makes us another invitation.

Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.

Jesus, the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace, wants to live with us this Christmas.

Maybe up until this moment we’ve failed to recognize His voice, but He continues to call. Maybe we’ve been worried about other things, but He waits for us. Why don’t we draw close to Him this Christmas? Why don’t we get to know Him as He is, the Master of our lives, the Author and Finisher of our faith and He who can give us the peace that passes all understanding. Why don’t we invite Him to to enter our lives this right here and right now?

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The Godzwa Family Thanksgiving 2008

The Godzwa Family Thanksgiving 2008

Expressing our gratefulness from Mexico on Thanksgiving and throughout the Christmas Season.

Love,
Dave and Kelly
Rebekah, Joseph, and Jonathan

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IMG 1612Those of you who have read the works of J.R.R. Tolkien and recognize the style of the title of this post are possibly anticipating a story of magic and mystery or an epic struggle between good and evil. In that you may be a bit disappointed. This story is instead about the reality of missionary life. How, try like we may, we are unable to set aside one role for the sake of another. We are missionaries, but we are husbands and fathers first.

It all started on Saturday, November 9th, following a long night and an early morning of family activities. (Jonathan had just celebrated his 6th birthday, and had a basketball game the next day to boot.) I was set to embark on a 18 hour bus trip to the Mexican Assemblies of God General Council, a once every two years meeting of ministers, in Puebla. I boarded the bus at 10:00 and began an adventure that would span four days and about $30 in cell phone credit.

The first two days were fairly uneventful, a stop for seafood in Champotón, Campeche, a late night taco feast in Cardenas, Tabasco and then the push to reach Mexico City for a bit of a tour of Chapultapec Park and the Plaza Garibaldi, all expected preliminaries as we prepared to participate in what was shaping up to be a fairly important council. However, the excitement that was generating as we were arriving at Puebla was not related to the council issues at all.

“Hi. Hurt my foot. Icing it now,” read the message from Kelly at 11:00 AM Monday morning. The rhythm of the council had been broken, at least for me. I had tried to dedicate myself to the role of council participant, but the role of husband and father had turned my attention back to a different reality. Kelly had fallen bringing groceries in from the car. A false step on entering the house had left her with pain and a rapidly swelling foot.

Kelly was putting the best face on the situation, grabbing info from the Internet about how to treat the injury at home. I advised that she head to the hospital for an x-ray, but she was still hopeful that it was only a sprain. A few hours later, I sent another message asking how she was: “peor (worse),” read the reply. So, 18 hours apart, I sat praying and wondering, while Kelly picked up the kids and headed to the hospital for x-rays.

The x-rays were taken, and the diagnosis was a slight fracture of the left foot. A splint and complete rest for the foot was the prescription. Bravely, Kelly told me to stay in Puebla. I recommended that she call on a few friends to help with the chores around the house, something that was already in process. Still, the next 8 hours would change Kelly’s situation from difficult to near impossible.

A call at 5:00 am on Tuesday woke me up from my uneasy sleep. Jonathan had thrown up 2 times. Now, Kelly not only had to maintain a functioning family, she had to attend to a sick child. I was no longer a council participant, I was a husband and father trying to get back as fast as he could.

Phone calls to friends were made, flights and buses checked, and I was on my way. In the taxi at 6:30, on the bus for the two-hour trip to Mexico City at 7:00, at the airport at 9:00 and on the plane by 10:00. In 6 hours, I was back in Mérida, amazed and thankful for a return trip that took only a third of the trip there.

So here I am again in Mérida doing minstry, ministering to my family and injured wife. Instead of voting on measures I’m measuring servings of cereal for breakfast, instead of trips to the convention center, I’m taking trips to school, but I know that I’m where I’m supposed to be.

Reflecting on the events of the week, I was reminded that God doesn’t just call individuals to the field. He calls families, and those that He calls he doesn’t leave to fend for themselves, nor does He give any member the ability to specialize (i.e. “My ministry is preach and teach, yours is to the family.”) He has sent us all so that when one is weak another can be strong. It just turned out in this case that the one who was called to be strong had to travel 750 miles in order to get home.

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“¿Qué opinas del nuevo presidente? (What do you think about the new president?)” is a question that Kelly and I, being Americans living in Mexico, are hearing quite a bit lately, and it’s one that I’ve had difficulty answering. It’s not that I don’t have an opinion, but serving as form of spiritual ambassador, we’ve found that it’s not wise to involve ourselves in political matters. So often politics tend to divide, while, as members of the Body of Christ, we are called to be united. Philippians 2:1-4 mentions being like-minded, one in spirit and purpose.

Fortunately, we belong to a community of believers who, I feel, are in touch with the mind of Christ on this matter. They’ve risen above the wrangling of partisanship and focused us on the true task at hand, the proclamation of the Kingdom which transcends the cult of opinion.

The first example of this kingdom wisdom was posted by our General Superintendent, George O. Wood. In this video, he gives us a clear call to return to kingdom living along with a biblical guide on living under elected authority. It’s fully worthy of the ten minutes you’ll spend watching it.

The second example I’m submitting is a post that I encountered on Facebook. Steve Smallwood, posted there a dream that I feel should be in the minds and hearts of all followers of Christ. You can read his dream below:

I Have a Dream

It’s based not just on the American dream,
And it goes beyond justice related to skin color,
Though who could not be moved at the tears
Streaming down the cheeks of black men and women.

I have a dream that transcends ethnic differences,
One that moves beyond the divisive issues of yesterday’s battles,
And calls on citizens red and blue to beat their tired rhetoric
Into plans for action to address issues of significance.

My dream envisions Christians who would embrace the Kingdom,
Above and beyond any denominational or national loyalties.
It challenges the close-minded simplicity that requires large blocks of Truth
To be defined by and contained within small cranial cavities.

I have a dream that is based in the example of Jesus,
Who endured ridicule and refused to throw stones
At those who were beset with the legacies of sinful lifestyles
In order to deliver refreshing living water to their parched spirits.

My dream yearns for true believers to set aside,
Partisan politics and theologies of left versus right,
To not just oppose abortion but to truly cherish and nurture life
And to love God and others just as we ourselves want to be loved.

It’s a dream that refuses to divorce the gifts of the Spirit,
From the fruits of the Spirit–especially goodness and gentleness,
Toward those we disagree with–even our enemies,
Who we are called by Jesus to love–because they need it most.

There are days when I fear my dream is merely a vapor,
When I find myself at odds with the din of the crowd,
Then I remember that Jesus said we’re not to travel the well-worn path,
But instead to listen with discernment to his small voice and follow his costly example.

I proud to be linked with such men and women and glad to benefit from their wisdom. What’s more, I’m proud to be a part of a community that awaits, not a political solution, but an eternal redemption.

And he made known to us the mystery of his will according to his good pleasure, which he purposed in Christ, to be put into effect when the times will have reached their fulfillment–to bring all things in heaven and on earth together under one head, even Christ.

–Ephesians 1:9-10

This verse just happened to be the verse of the day on Biblegateway.com

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A Typical Pemex Gas Station

A Typical Pemex Gas Station

I had left early for my Maya language class because I had to get gas on the way. Before leaving, I had asked Kelly if I should use cash or our handy-dandy debit card for the purchase. Liking the way that the bank informs us about the debit purchases, Kelly asked me to use the card. So, leaving the cash, I went out the door to the station.


There at the gas station, before the attendant, Robert, started pumping, I verified that they took credit cards. After assuring me that they did, he proceeded to fill the tank and top off my oil, a process that took all of about 10 minutes. Gassed and ready to go, I handed over the credit card for him to swipe it. That’s when the fun began.

After about a minute of waiting, the receipt spit out of the reader. “Try again later.” So we did, with the same results. Then we tried another card, again receiving the unwelcome advice. At this point, it was getting late. The manager was called over; another reader was tried, all with the same results. I was stuck with an $80 gas bill and no way to pay it.

I thought about the 15 minutes I had driven from my house just to reach the station, “How about one of you comes along to the ATM so that I can make a withdrawal and give you cash?” After a quick conference, Robert jumped in and off we went. We arrived at the cash machine in about 5 minutes where I jumped out and attempted to get the amount I needed. “We are unable to complete your transaction at this time. Try again later,” read the screen. What had started as strange had quickly evolved into the ridiculous. Now, we were to plan C.

Plan C consisted of a 30 minute road trip to my house in order to get the money that I had left behind. Getting approval at the station, Robert and I, fast becoming friends, headed off to get the cash. On the way there, we talked.

I asked him how long how long that he had been at the station, and that opened up the door to allow him to ask me about myself. Having long since dismissed the idea of making my Maya class, I told him what we did, and he began to open up about his family situation: separated parents and a constantly drunk father. Before we knew it, we were at my house where Kelly met us with the money and a healthy tip for Robert’s lost time.

On the trip back, I got a chance to speak to Robert about my history. A former Catholic with 4 separate beliefs represented in his 8 member family, he seemed to have assigned religion to something like personal taste in music, but I challenged this idea, speaking of how Christ had changed me and of how the Bible is the only set of sacred scriptures that deals with reality and offers a solution to the human condition. As I was relating to Robert’s situation and answering his questions, I realized that after nearly an hour getting gas, I wished I had more time.

We arrived at the gas station and shook hands after we had finally made the transaction. He returned to his pump and I drove away praying that the words that I shared would hit home. At the same time, I was determining to return to that gas station hoping to continue the conversation.

So a funny thing happened to me on the way to my Maya class. In middle of an an inconvenient and awkward experience God presented an opportunity for real-life ministry. Perhaps I should pray for more credit card machine failures?

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Maya Language School Itzamná

Maya Language School Itzamná

Ma’alob k’iin. Bix a beel’ex. Having trouble responding? That’s because what my greeting was written in Maya. It reads, “Good morning. How are you?” (There are no question marks in Maya)

Here in the Yucatán the official language is Spanish. For this reason, we spent our first year of this term in Costa Rica learning Spanish so that we could live and work here in Mérida. Nevertheless, there are times, like this past month when we journeyed to the town of Tekax, that even speaking in perfect Spanish isn’t enough. That is because, in several towns in the state of Yucatán, many still speak the traditional indigenous language which has changed only slightly from the time of the pyramid builders of Chichen Itza to the present. Others are bilingual, having learned Spanish in school, but clearly function better in their native language.

So how do we respond to this fact? Well, we could rely upon those who are bilingual to translate for us, hoping that they will correctly interpret the meaning of our message. But what does this teach the Maya speakers? I feel it teaches them that the gospel is something foreign. Something that requires special abilities in order to understand, and that salvation is reserved for those who earn it by learning this foreign system. I don’t believe that our God is like that.

From the beginning, with the question, “Adam, where are you?”, we know that God initiated his plan of salvation. Romans 5:8 says that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. And John 1:14 says that Jesus, the very Word of God came near, and lived among us. We are not those who search for Him says Romans 3:10-11, He comes after us.

How does this translate then as a reaction to the situation of the Maya here in Yucatan? Years ago, before archeology became the force that it is today, many thought that the Koine Greek, the language in which the New Testament was written was a sacred tongue. This was thought because the texts available to the scholars at the time, that of Classical Greek was different from what they saw in Bible. However, as more research came to light, they found that the New Testament Greek was not a sacred language after all. In fact, it was the common speech–that which the housewives used to write out their shopping lists. So, in fact, we see that the very Bible that we read is another aspect of God “coming near” to us. He didn’t speak through the elite of the society or through a priestly class, He instead spoke through the common tongue of the merchants, the peasants, and the slaves.

Understanding this, if we are to “come near” as Christ’s ambassadors and show the Maya that this message is in fact for them, that Christ came to save every, tribe, tongue and nation, then we in turn should take the steps to learn to share this salvation in their native tongue.

So that in fact is what we are doing. Every Monday and Wednesday for two hours, I am traveling to the “Ermita”, a plaza south of town, to learn to speak and write the Maya language. (The picture in this post is a shot of the entrance to the building.) The municipal government has established a course in which they teach citizens and foreigners at beginning, intermediate, and advanced levels for only $5 a month. Having extended for a year, and having scheduled outreaches into these Maya speaking regions, this was an offer that we couldn’t refuse.

So here I am again learning anew how to function in another language, struggling to come up with the words to respond to the teacher. However, when I consider what Christ did for us, coming to us as a baby, unable to speak, to function on His own, in order to live among us, I say that my struggle is worth it if it allows me to live among this people and reveal to them the God that we serve, the God who came near.

By the way, a fellow Mexico Missionary just sent us a link to an example of the power of “coming near” to an unreached people group. You can check out the video on You Tube

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Fall 2008 NewsletterOur print newsletter hasn’t yet made to the printer, but you can get the electronic copy here at disciplemexico.org in advance. Just click here or on the photo to get up to date.

Remember, in order to read the newsletter, you’ll need Adobe Acrobat reader, which is available for free.


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The streets of Izamal

The streets of Izamal

It was Sunday September 7th. We had been driving that morning to Izamal, a village about an hour outside of Mérida in order to attend the district-wide prayer meeting, when Kelly asked me about a passage that she had been reviewing for an upcoming women’s meeting. With Mexico’s Independence Day celebration upcoming, she had settled upon Galatians 5:13: “You, my brothers, were called to be free. But do not use your freedom to indulge the sinful nature ; rather, serve one another in love.”

Using the passage as a jumping-off point, I remember expressing an idea that came to my mind: “Being released from the bondage of sin, we are now free to humble ourselves and serve one another. Although the external circumstances would suggest a different reaction, we are free to love when before we were tied to serve only our own passions and interests.”

Little did I know, however, that what was then theoretical would become suddenly very concrete.

As we were leaving the city after the meeting, we had stopped at a stop sign and were beginning to continue when, unseen by us, a motorcycle carrying 3 teenagers attempted cross in front of us. They struck the front of the truck and fell against the curb of the opposite corner. All three weren’t wearing helmets.

Immediately, I got out of the truck to tell the boys to stay where they were. Soon, those that lived near the scene were out of their houses, and before long, the police and ambulance arrived. Those that were hurt were taken to the hospital, while we were escorted to the police station where I was detained for 33 hours, first at the station, and later at the Public Ministry building in Mérida.

Now, in the US, when an accident occurs, rarely does a person go to jail, but in Mexico, when there is doubt about payment, the person who causes the accident is detained for 48 hours until the situation is settled. If it is not settled in 48 hours, the driver goes to jail. Unfortunately, although we had Mexican Car Insurance it took the adjuster one hour to reach the scene, and it wasn’t until later that night that the lawyer arrived in order to begin the process to post bond so that I would be released.

Nevertheless, being placed in detention didn’t mean that I had been placed on a shelf. The words that I had spoken just hours before came back to me during my time alone. So I prayed. I prayed for the injured boys. I prayed for Kelly and the kids, and I prayed that God would use me. I knew that, even though I had been detained by the authorities, I was free to serve.

Merida Public Ministry Building

Merida Public Ministry Building

In Mérida, I was made to wait in a room with three benches and an air conditioner that had seen its best days perhaps 10 years ago, but I was not alone. It “just so happened” that, there with me in the “waiting room” was a man who we’ll call José. He had arrived the day before, having crashed his car while driving drunk on his way home from work on the other side of the peninsula, but that wasn’t the whole story. He was also a prodigal son.

He had once had a vibrant relationship with the Lord and had been an active member of the Christian community, but his work had isolated him, and in his isolation his bad choices multiplied. The crash was the end of a slippery slope that had left more than his car in a wreck, but sometimes it takes hitting bottom before we begin to look up.

José told me his story, and I told him mine, but I didn’t end it with the story of the accident. I told him that although God hadn’t caused my accident, that my meeting with him was certainly more than coincidental. I told him of the Father that welcomes home all who return to Him, and I invited him to start the journey back. We prayed, and in that detention center, we felt the presence of God. We knew that even though it seemed that our immediate future was out of our hands, we knew the hands that held our eternity.

José wasn’t the only one in the room with me. There were two youth who had been detained for driving drunk, and two others who were in the middle of a dispute between their respective insurance companies. While we waited for news about our situation, we formed a community: we talked about our families and our faith, we shared everything from the food that was brought to us to the floor that we slept on, but what filled me with the most joy was our last moments together.

When word came that was to be released, I asked if they would mind that I prayed. Given permission, we all bowed our heads and I began. I prayed for their safety and the resolution of their situations. I prayed for their families and their future, but, most of all, I prayed that each one of them might know Jesus, the only one who, in whatever situation, can set us free.

As I walked out of that room and into Kelly’s arms, I was thankful to be reunited with my family. I was thankful for the beginning of the resolution of circumstances surrounding our accident, but I wasn’t thankful for being set free. Instead, I was thankful for being taught the true meaning of freedom–that, no matter what the circumstances say, Christ has set me free, free to follow Him and free to serve others in the hope they they too will taste the freedom that I have been privileged to
experience.

In wrapping up this lengthy post, I want you to know that we are well. Although the accident has certainly left a mark on us, with God’s strength we are returning to “normal life” here on the mission field. We have definitely been the beneficiaries of the blessing of the Body of Christ in action through it all. From the prayers of the saints to the selfless help of our church friends and district officials, we have been cared for throughout this entire situation. Blessings on all of you who have been a part of this comfort that we have received.

Furthermore, it has been reported that all who were injured will make a full recovery. They have received the medical attention necessary and are now receiving spiritual care on behalf of the local A/G congregation. It is my prayer that this temporary setback will serve to redirect their lives toward a relationship with the one who can guide them through their eternity.

As for José, we were released together and are planning to get together soon to celebrate our freedom, freedom that God redefined for us in the middle of our captivity.

Photo of the Public Ministry building from Yucatan Living.com. You can read about their experience here: https://www.yucatanliving.com/yucatan-survivor/yucatan-license-plates.htm

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The start of September marked the anniversary of our second year in the Yucatán. Here is a look back at some of our favorite posts that you might have missed:

  1. Rethinking the task of teaching
  2. This post was written as a reflection on a major part of our work here in Mérida, that of teaching. It serves to remind us that if we seek to impart the tools necessary, and convey an attitude that promotes learning, we can create an investigator who seeks to find the answer and apply truth in such a way as to create change.


  3. Leave if You Can!
  4. This article was inspired by our trip to the flood stricken region of Tabasco, where we found that in a town where even the name encourages people to stay away, God had decided to take up residence.


  5. Living In-Between
  6. A reflection on the human condition, this post reminds us that, although we struggle in our “in-betweeness” of imperfection and disappointment, the promise of Easter is that the redemption of our soul that we currently enjoy will one day be universally applied.


  7. The Most Excellent Way
  8. This post reminds us that, when it comes to evangelism, the real question should not be, “How should our evangelism look?” but rather, “How should our evangelism be motivated?”


  9. Learning to Fly
  10. This last selection is a light look at sharing responsibilities in a missionary home.


We’re thankful for the two years of ministry that we have had here the Yucatán. It’s our prayer that, with your continued partnership, we will be able to celebrate many more.

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