Doctor's visits

There exist many great challenges for missionaries who leave their family, church, and country to serve Jesus internationally. In Bible college I had a class called "Crosscultural Communication". I remember learning a lot of things in that class and other classes like it like "Cultural Anthropology" Thankfully these courses helped prepare me for an intercontinental ministry, but I never could have anticipated the great challenges that lay ahead in my endeavor to make Chilean disciples of Christ. One of those challenges is that the culture where I labor is nothing like the very specific environment where I learned how to minister to the lost and to Christians: Pomona, CA. One of the areas where I felt the effect of this disconnect is the area of pastoral visits. An important part of pastoral ministry is making home visits. In Theodore Cuyler's How to Pastor, we learn that "a house-going pastor makes a church-going people." When I learned how to make these visits, the model that I observed and adopted was to stop in to several homes the same evening or afternoon. This usually lead to a 20 or 30 minute visit. In American culture this isn't weird nor is it offensive. On the contrary, if you stay too long, especially for an unsolicited visit, it is very easy to wear our your welcome. I made the mistake of assuming that things would be the same here in Coyhaique.

When I began ministry in Patagonia and I would make home visits, about 15 or 25 minutes into the visit I would get the itch that it was about time to make my escape. Of course I was sincere in my desire to make a good visit, but I was sincerely wrong in the way I was going about it. For our first year here I made each visit as fast as I could. People would offer me food or drink and in an attempt to be polite I would say "no thanks". When they would insist I'd make up and excuse like, "Annie is making me dinner and if I come home full then she's going to make me sleep in the doghouse." In a desire to be courteous I was coming off as rude and rejecting their hospitality. This closed doors and hindered me from developing relationships.

I no longer visit like that.

These days a shorter visit lasts about 2 hours. As I make visits most nights, it is not uncommon for them to last longer than 4 hours. A few months ago I was talking with some of the folks from our church and the length of my visits came up. I was just talking about it casually, but when they weighed in I realized what an important lesson there was to be learned! You see, I used to visit this same family during that first year, and now they are part of our church and now I have been discipling them weekly for several months. They experienced both my early visits and my current visits. When we were talking they laughed and mumbled something that I didn't understand, and they apparently didn't want to repeat it. When I persisted they said, "We used to joke that pastor's visits were doctor's visits." Confused, I asked what they meant and they politely said, "When you see a doctor it is always a very short visit." I began to think about the times I have seen doctors here and realized that those visits were usually cold, distant, fast, and often lack any semblance of courtesy. This is a serious problem. I can understand why a doctor's visit would go that way, the doctor sees the person as a task to get through. But pastors are not doctors, and the people we minister to are not just an errand on a list of things to get done.

The dining room table has proven to be one of my most effective tools for both evangelism and discipleship. One of the greatest lessons that I have learned in the last three years since I arrived to Patagonia is the following: from the pulpit I am their preacher, but at the table I am their pastor. It is in those moments where we tarry long pouring over the Scriptures, praying together, laughing, eating, drinking (tea, coffee, juice, mate, etc.) when I have become people's pastor. I learn their needs, their hurts, their victories, their failure...it is where I love, I teach, and I listen. Many people have doubts and questions about the Bible that they would never share in a public meeting of the church, but they would love to ask the pastor in their home.

I was so mistaken in our earlier days here and I didn't even realize it! I am not saying that in American culture pastors are doing things wrong by making short visits. What I am trying to say is that Chileans are different from Americans, and furthermore Chilean Patagonians are different from the rest of Chileans. Ministry is about become all things to all men so that you might by some means win some.

I would exhort any new missionaries, or missionaries who are preparing to leave for the field to soak up everything they can in their training in their local church, but also to be prepared to custom tailor that model on their respective field. Study the people in your new home so that you can bring them to the feet of Jesus and teach them how to follow Him.

I love where I live and minister and I am growing and learning everyday. Pray for us.

2 year anniversary

We have a busy week of ministry this week. We are starting our first vacation Bible school tomorrow and tomorrow night I finish up the free English class we offered. We had 5 first time visitors on Sunday from the class. Apart from our normal services and activities the week will culminate on Sunday when we celebrate our second anniversary as a church. I am taking out newspaper and radio ads for all the activities. With all the craziness I have a peace that passes all understanding praying and asking God to bless for His glory.

Philippians 4:6-7
Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.

I would also like to paint up another wall art that will add a bit of balance to the last one that I did. Here is the first draft.

Things I miss eating

Admittedly after not blogging in English for a long time, this is not the most exciting comeback post ;)

Tonight I was thinking about all the things I'd love to eat and thought I'd post about it. And don't take it as complaining because I am super content with where I'm at, but a little nostalgia won't hurt me.

Jalapeños

Real tacos (2 small corn tortillas, meat, onions, cilantro, salsa)

Pho

Double Double

Ribeye

Bacon

Sharp cheddar cheese

Anything cooked by my mom, but especially Turkey Tetrazinni

James Russell Fehr

A couple of weeks ago I was on a two day trip to Santiago to preach in a graduation. I also got to preach at a church plant in Quilicura. Shortly before the service I read a text that my grandfather, Russell Fehr, had passed away. Although I knew he wasn't doing very well I was shocked and heartbroken at the news. I am so thankful for the hope of heaven though, and the promise of eternal life to all who place their faith in Jesus Christ.

My grandfather was a very talented man. One of his talents was artistic woodwork. As a boy I was very proud to tell people that my grandpa was a carpenter, because Jesus was a carpenter. When I was young I admired him so much for the beautiful creations he did. I felt very privileged when he brought me into his shop one summer to work with him and learn the craft. That summer was just the start, and it became something we would share for years. I never got as good as he was, but I treasure those times together now much more than the craft. We would talk about things. He told me war stories (grandpa served in the Navy), he told me how he met grandma, and we listened to big band, ragtime, and barbershop quartets. Below is a picture of one of the pieces of art I made in his shop as he mentored me; these are called intarsias. I made this one about 12 years ago and gave it to my sister.

One day after finishing work in the shop we went out to one of grandma and grandpa’s favorite restaurants in Whittier called Seafare Inn. As we sat at lunch I asked them if they were saved; if they had come to know Christ as Saviour. I’ll never forget the response I heard, “We believe in salvation by grace through faith.” That is straight out of the Scriptures; Ephesians 2:8-9. I am sad that grandpa is gone and especially that I couldn’t be near him at the end to say goodbye, but I have hope to see him again (1 Thessalonians 4:13). I am so thankful for the memories I have of him and I will always cherish them.

Armed Forces Appreciation Day

When I was a teenager a couple of Christian police officers really took an interest in my life. As I participated in the youth group they ran they began to reach out to me more and more. Through their efforts and those of many others I came to know Christ as my Saviour. From that point forward I have always had a love for police officers. Once I learned what the Bible teaches about them my respect grew even more.

When I was in Bible college I had a professor that is a chaplain who did Law Enforcement Appreciation Days at numerous churches and shared with us about those days. Ever since that point I decided that I would do something like that when I was in the ministry.

Police officers aren't perfect, and as with any profession there are going to be bad people, but as a general rule in the United States you are blessed to have police that are not corrupt. I have been in places where police officers are corrupt and encourage bribes; it is a terrible feeling! Thankfully, Chile is also a country blessed with an upright police force, and if you try to bribe an officer here then you will be taken to jail.

This Sunday night we are doing a law enforcement appreciation day at our church. Since in Chile the police are a branch of the military we are extending the day to all branches. I just got this letter in the mail from an Army Colonel saying that they will be participating by sending three ranking officers and 15 enlisted soldiers.

We are flying a pastor in to preach who retired from the Chilean Air Force after 27 years of service. Pretty exciting! Pray for our day.

Chopped, here I come!

About 6 months ago we got a Mexican restaurant in our city, Coyhaique. We don't really go because it isn't cheap, and because we make some bomb mexican food in the house. Yesterday we were feeling lazy so I picked up some food to go, and when the owners found out I was from California and that I like to cook Mexican food they asked if I would teach them and the chefs some recipes. I went in today at 11 and finished around 2. I taught them how to make chile relleno, salsa ranchera, salsa colorado, enchiladas, quesarritos,, some fresh salsas, taqueria style tacos, and some cool Mexican techniques. Overall I had a blast and they couldn't get enough of the food. Afterwards they wanted to pay me, but I told them that nothing would be better payment than if they were to come to a church service. They said they would!

Here's a high quality picture for your enjoyment. They should have given me a hairnet for my beard ;)

The emotional ebb and flow of missions

When Annie and I left the United States to be missionaries I remember saying to her, “you know, people are going to die.” We are going to be in Chile, and people are going to die. It is just a fact of life for a missionary that while they are abroad, there are certainly going to be waves of change in the place where they are from.

I don’t want to be morbid, but I do want to share some of my raw emotion and that will require talking about an undesirable situation. A couple of weeks ago I got the message that my grandfather’s health was declining. I called him that day to talk with him and pray with him. We talked for about five minutes. I knew he wasn’t doing well when he answered the phone and said, “Kyle, how’s the war?” His mind wasn’t completely there at times, but I could tell he understood just about everything I said. By the time the phone call was ending I was really choking up as the thought occurred to me, “I’m about to say goodbye to my grandpa for the last time.” I had a difficult time holding it together. I got off the phone and just wept.

My grandpa and I bonded when I was younger as I took an interest in woodworking. He is quite the artist, and he taught me the tricks of the trade of artistic woodwork. We made some beautiful things as well as developed a close bond. We talked about his childhood, his religious background, his work, inflation (of all things), how he and grandma fell in love, war stories, and other things. I am very thankful that one day after we finished a wood project I went to lunch with him and my grandma at one of their favorite restaurants in La Habra, the Fish Company. There I explained to them the gospel and asked them if they had put their faith in Christ as their Saviour. I remember the affirmative response as clearly as if it was yesterday, “We believe in salvation by grace through faith in Christ.” I take comfort in the fact that grandpa knows Christ as his Saviour. His health has not been well at all. He was in the hospital yesterday and today and had to have a lot of tests done. I don’t know if he is going to die soon or not, but this has definitely made death of loved ones very real.

Right now Annie’s family is having basically a reunion. There are Aunts, Uncles, cousins, etc. getting together for her grandmother’s 80^th birthday. She never complains that God’s calling on our lives has taken us so far from loved ones; in fact, she never complains about anything. However, I know it is difficult for her to not be there.

As a missionary, one of the things you sacrifice, to some extent, is the relationships dearest to you. You miss pregnancies, births, deaths, marriages, birthdays, etc. And although it doesn’t make the reality of sacrifice any lesser, I know these sacrifices of pale in comparison to what Christ sacrificed for us. Looking to Jesus is always a good choice. He is worthy of my all. He is God’s only begotten Son and God made Him a missionary. He left the glories of heaven to be born as a lowly human and dwell among sinful men. The word missionary means “a sent one” and Christ, who has sent us, was Himself sent by the Father: “…as my Father hath sent me, even so send I you.” (John 20:21)

There is a wonderful promise that means a lot to me as a missionary:

Matthew 19:29

And every one that hath forsaken houses, or brethren, or sisters, or father, or mother, or wife, or children, or lands, for my name's sake, shall receive an hundredfold, and shall inherit everlasting life. 

I am not discouraged at all. I don't want to quit. I'm not thinking about throwing in the towel. I am convinced that the missionary life is the best life. I just needed somewhere to express myself. I'm thankful for the assurance that any current suffering is nothing to be compared to the glory that shall come (Romans 8:18 & 2 Corinthians 4:17).

FREE MUSIC!

Annie and I did some recording a few mornings this week. The recordings are not professional quality, but I think they sound decent for being done on an ipad by two people who don't know much about recording. The tracks are simple, A Capella, Spanish, hymns. Some people dread singing hymns, and I don't blame them because I have been in many services where hymns were song and I felt like I was at a funeral. I think the first time I really liked hymns was when I was in chapel at Bible college and my sister-in-law was on the piano. I don't know if fingers are supposed to dance, but hers certainly did. There is just something special about a joyful song leader and stirring piano playing. I have grown to love hymns.

Ephesians 5:18-20
"...be filled with the Spirit; Speaking to yourselves in psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, singing and making melody in your heart to the Lord; Giving thanks always for all things unto God and the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ;"

In my opinion, one of many reasons that hymns can be dreadful is because many churches only sing 10-20 of them and just rotate them through services. The monotony of ritual breeds contempt. I experienced this while working in a church: we would sing about 5-10 songs (three per service) and rotate them. Oh man, I hated it. Most hymnals have hundreds of songs, ours has like 650, so why stick to less than a dozen?!

Psalm 33:3
"Sing unto him a new song; play skilfully with a loud noise."

A "new song" doesn't have to mean it was composed yesterday. Hundreds of hymns are "new" to me because I've never known them. When I was given the privilege to start a church I decided that we would work hard to have an expansive and growing repertoire. One of the ways I have worked at accomplishing that is that for our Sunday night service we are singing through the whole hymnal. We started at number one and usually sing 2-4 per service. We are somewhere near #170! I learned this little trick at one of our supporting churches, Mountain Avenue Baptist Church of Banning, CA. What a blessing it has been learning all of these hymns, and in Spanish too! Another thing that I thought we would do is try to do a simple recording of hymns that are lesser known in Spanish churches to give away for free. That is what led me to this post! We have 9 songs that we did this week that we would like to give away to anyone and everyone who would like them. I wanted it to be more, like 10-12, but time only allowed for 9 for now. Hopefully we can do many more in the future.

If you would like to hear them you can sample them here: http://www.purevolume.com/LaFamiliaSheridan I don't recommend the rest of the music on this website, but it was a cool way to upload our music for free. If you like what you hear and you'd like me to send you the rest of the songs let me know and I'll get them to you! They are free so please feel free to give them away as much as you'd like.

Teaching my son the seven

Micah is starting to imitate everything! It is very helpful for teaching him. It also serves as a great illustration to what we have been teaching our teens on Friday nights, “Let no man despise thy youth; but be thou an example of the believers, in word, in conversation, in charity, in spirit, in faith, in purity.” (1 Timothy 4:12).  My grandparents bought Micah a drawing board where you can draw and erase an unlimited amount. On it I’ve been drawing numbers, letters, and the Do-Re-Mi scale. He does a very good job of matching the notes with me and going up the scale. He says several letters pretty well, and he says some numbers well too. The ipad also really helps a lot too. He is so good at maneuvering it!

While I was teaching Micah some numbers, I was taught a lesson in missiology/cultural adaptation. One of the things that I try to do is make Chile my home while not losing my American identity. I will always be a fair-skinned, freckly, hazel-eyed, American born man. However, as a missionary I want to become Chilean in order to win Chileans for Christ. My cell phone is in Spanish, I use military time, I serve a hot drink after meals when guests are over, I drink mate till it comes out of my ears, AND I write my sevens like Chileans.

In the United States you write your seven like this:

In Chile, if you write your seven like that, then it will be taken as a one. In Chile, your sevens have to have the little vertical line going through the middle like this:

Yesterday I was drawing the number seven for Micah and I said, “We put this little line on it because we live in Chile.” It has taken me about a year and a half, but I have finally rewired myself to write the seven with the vertical line. When you have been doing something the same way your whole life, it can be difficult to completely change it! These are the little things that might not mean much to some people, but to me, as a missionary, it is a major detail!

A cool new look

We have had several things designed lately by our friend Monique, I think they look great!

This is our new letterhead for prayer letters.

Our new prayer card

A new invitation that we are handing out to every home with a copy of the gospel of John

One year anniversary

A little over a month ago we celebrated our first year of ministry in Central Baptist Church of Coyhaique. It was a wonderful day with a total of 41 in attendance. Here are several pictures from the day.

Beef, it's what's for dinner

Leviticus 3:10
And the two kidneys, and the fat that is upon them, which is by the flanks, and the caul above the liver, with the kidneys, it shall he take away.

I was reading this verse today and had a better understanding than if I had read it before living in Chile. When I lived in the United States I had this dream world that when a cow was butchered, his meat just sort of magically was cut into perfect pieces of edible beef. In fact, I'd never really even imagined an actual cow dying, being cut up into pieces, and wrapped up to be placed in the meat department and wait for me. You see, my American friends, when a cow gets butchered, his meat does not look like this:

In fact, when a cow gets butchered, it's meat looks like this:

The former is something you walk into your Albertsons, Ralphs, Stater Brothers, etc to purchase. It does not exist here. The latter is what you purchase in Chile. You just go to the butcher and you say, "I'll take a half," or, "give me one and a quarter," referring to how many kilos you want. And then undoubtedly he'll give you much more than you asked for because it means more money in the till for him. The number of "cuts" is much fewer here. Forget T-bone, Porterhouse, Strip, New York, Top Sirloin, Filet Mignon, Round, London Broil, Flank, or Skirt steak. There are three steaks in Chile: loin with fat, loin without fat, and fillet. They all come riddled with sinew, nerves, and about 10% inedible parts. So yes, your average Chilean housewife knows how to clean meat better than your average American man.

So that takes me full circle back to the verse. It says that when the priest was going to sacrifice a steer (bullock), that he had to take away the fat that covered the bowels. I've never done that, but now that I've got some experience under my belt of cleaning meat up, I think I have a little more respect for the Jewish priests who must have been pretty expert butchers.

On another note, did you know that milk actually comes from cows? It does! I saw it happen the other day and we bought some. We have a farm about 5 minutes from our house where you can get fresh milk.

Patrick Thomas

Patrick is our little miracle baby. He has had more blood tests done in his short 3 months of life than I remember having in all of my life. I think we're up to 12 now. He had a common problem among babies, jaundice. This problem is common on the 3rd and 4th days of the life of a baby, but most babies recover without a problem. Patrick was treated in the hospital multiple times, but just couldn't seem to kick it. We took him in to a good pediatric when he was like 7 weeks old. She said if he was still yellow at 8 weeks then he needed to get blood work done again. The results came back poor and she said it was probably because he had a liver disease. With some more testings done she sent us to a specialist in Santiago, a children's gastroenterologist. We had to fly to Santiago to see this dr. and so we were able to accomplish a lot of north during our visit. We met with a U.S. embassy officer, and were approved for Patrick's birth certificate and passport. The hospital where we took him might be the nicest hospital in Chile. It was impressive; by far the nicest hospital I've ever been in. The doctor looked at Patrick and said that he was a very healthy baby (by this time the yellow had dissipated), and said that he believed that blood tests were adulterated. He sent for us to get more blood work done. Once the test results were in, and he was able to check them online we communicated through email and he said, "Don't worry, your baby is 100% healthy."

As I look back I can see God's hand at work in so many ways. The biggest and most obvious is the miracle of Patrick being healed. There is no way that it was an error in the exams because he was as yellow as a "zapallo" as they say here in Chile (a zapallo is like a monstrous pumpkin that's very yellow on the inside). Praise be to God for his healing. Another little detail that was special was that the hospital was costly; we had to pay to see the doctor and pay to get blood work done. Two churches invited me to preach for them during our stay in Santiago. One of them gave us a love offering and it was about the same as the cost of seeing the specialist. Also at the blood work counter the lady told me the price and when I asked for a discount she took $60 off the price! Ye have not, because ye ask not!

A few of my favorite pictures of Patrick

Enduring another goodbye

It's 1:00 AM on the morning of my parents' departure. I am sitting here with a heavy heart reflecting on the fact that they are leaving. This is the first time this has ever happened. For many years I have been leaving the U.S.A., and they have had to endure seeing me off. It is my turn to say goodbye and watch them walk away. It is a painful feeling. I wonder if it hurt Christ to leave the perfection of heaven as He humbled Himself to be born among sinful men.

They say David Livingstone (Africa, 1800's) said, "God had an only Son, and He made Him a missionary." I know that there is inherent error in that quote, because Jesus is not God's only Son, but rather His only begotten Son. Anyways, I understand what the quote is trying to communicate, and I see its truth.

A missionary is one who is sent. Being sent means that you leave behind something, and though it ought not lessen your resolve, it can be very painful. Abraham left behind Ur of the Chaldees. Joseph left behind his family and his home. Barnabas and Paul (temporarily) waved goodbye to their local church.

I remember when my nephew Zachary and my niece Hailee were born I waited the whole time in the hospital. It makes me sad to think that I won't be able to be there for my sister this time around; there's just a couple of weeks left.

The United States is a great land, and although it is no longer my home it is home to many of the people, places, and things that I love.

This week I watched a video from a Birthday celebration at our sending church. I miss those people dearly.

I am so glad that missionaries are sent and not severed. The last two weeks have been so refreshing. It's wonderful to have family that is involved in your lives and ministry. It's not easy to travel from California to Patagonia, and especially so if you don't speak Spanish. I'm very thankful for the visit, and can't wait to see family again (here or there).

As I think of those who were sent (especially Jesus, because He is everything), it is overwhelmingly clear that the nobility of their commission outweighed the sorrow of their departure. He came to seek and to save that which was lost, what nobler cause is there?

It's time to get back to work, hand to the plow, don't look back.

Cults

This picture here is of various materials from cults that have recently been donated to our fireplace. I thought I'd snap a picture first because it really moved my heart. There are many (2 Corinthians 11:13-14), worthy of being anathema (Galatians 1:8-9), who preach a false gospel and who vigorously promote lies. It is incredible how heavily they are present, even in the ends of the earth. How much more we, who have the truth, need to put our hands to the plow and labor!

John 9:4
I must work the works of him that sent me, while it is day: the night cometh when no man can work.

Patrick Thomas Sheridan

Our new little bundle of joy arrived last week! It was a long journey. We hit a few struggles along the way in the hospital, but we are just thankful for a healthy baby and all of God's blessings in our family. I love his name! I got to choose it this time. I think it's neat that he has my dad's name and Annie's dad's name. The motive for choosing Patrick was after my dad, and there were actually three men named Thomas who inspired the middle name: my father-in-law, my grandpa William Thomas Sheridan, and my good friend Thomas Ware. I got a shot of Micah meeting Patrick the day after he was born...Micah is wearing his festive Chilean clothes for Independence Day (er, WEEK, because here we literally celebrate it all week long). Please enjoy these pictures, real baby pictures are coming soon, and hopefully an updated family picture.

Conference was a success

Our first annual missions conference went very well. We plan to start supporting our second missionary who is a Mexican brother serving in India. The only thing stopping us is figuring out a few logistical difficulties, but hopefully those will be resolved soon! We had our guest speaker and his family in. There is a gal who attends services who does art by burning drawings onto leather. We presented Pastor Cristian and his family with a personalized gift made by her. We were challenged to take the gospel to every creature in our generation. Here is a picture from one of the services, in the background you can see our new banner that says "TO EVERY CREATURE IN OUR GENERATION":

Murta, Sanchez, and Tranquilo

We planned to hit one more town on our evangelistic trip, but because of a flat tire we didn't make it to Puerto Guadal. It was a memorable trip. We passed out many gospel tracts, at least one to each home in these three places, and we also got to preach the gospel to people in each place. They all desperately need a church to be planted there. Sanchez is so small, maybe like 50-75, and it is not too far from Bahia Murta. It is a little community that up until the last decade was only reachable by boat or a very dangerous road. One of the most memorable moments on this trip was after witnessing to two men in Puerto Sanchez, one of them yelled to me as we were walking away, "Don't forget Sanchez! Come back to Sanchez!" I will not soon forget him, or Sanchez. Here are a lot of random cell phone pictures from the trip:

 I thought this waterfall that had frozen over was so beautiful. This was at the highest point of altitude as you are making your way towards the Villa Cerro Castillo/Puerto Ingeniero Ibañez area. The roads were pretty icy. This picture is from on the way, but if you want to get an idea of how icy the roads were check out the last picture in the post.

 These two pictures are from the entrance of Bahia Murta. Just under 600 people according to this sign, but I suspect it has grown a little. These are 600 people whom God loves very much. Most of the town was gathered the day we were there for a funeral, I was moved with compassion as they wept without hope.

 Oh, just a pig in the plaza at Bahia Murta.

This dear man welcomed us into his home. I preached the gospel to him and used his guitar to sing some gospel songs. He said Bahia Murta needs a pastor...he's right. He asked if I would send one and gave me his phone number for when we do.

This is on the scary road winding through the mountains on the way to Puerto Sanchez. From what I hear it is no where near as bad as the old road.

These two frost-bitten pictures are from in front of our cabin in Puerto Rio Tranquilo. I plan to take my parents and family here in a couple of weeks. It got really cold that night. It was so cold when we woke up that I went and had devotions in the car with the heater on! What a whimp! I remember doing that once on deputation with Annie. 

What a trip! This was my last shot I snapped when we were still about 2 hours away from home. I was so excited to get home to the family, sleep in my bed, and I was thankful for what God had done on this journey.