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.