This is an actual post we received from
a dear friend on the missionary field. Names are withheld or changed
to protect the people who could possibly be harmed if identified. They were in North Vietnam and the deported
A Missionary's Reflections
I have spent the last two days going through the notes, letters and
requests. My God did a lot in the past 18 years. Unfortunately,
I look down the street and see the same trouble day after day. Satan
is like a bad dream that will not go away. Maybe like catching the
sticks before they go over the waterfall, I work for the Lord to see changes
in peoples lives, reaching for the sticks and bring people out of turbulent
waters. Many people watch, but few help. You are such a blessing.
Some of the folks even try to push me into the water as well.
Then, after catching the sticks and watching them change from wet,
wanting and hurting people, I noticed that they are not interested in getting
back in the water either. Often, it is these people who have now
changed their lives who are least interested in the others who are floating
in the turbulent waters.
I look back at the pile and suppose I have something to be proud
of. I look at the list of finances granted to the work over the last
18 years and am absolutely amazed at what God has done. The houses
we have opened, the ministries we have started the friends we have made.
I also look back in amazement at the number of folks that tried to
stop us or hurt us. That is also a big number and still, we continue
to live on the edge of the muddy water. I am really not much good
for anything else. I am not normal, as has so often been pointed
out by others. I do not seem to have the bubbling over joy that some
have. My joy, my strength comes from the next stick that I can grab,
maybe a family that is on their way over the precipice.
I suppose there are also many who are grateful that I was there,
at the edge of the rushing torrent, even some who are working in different
parts of the rapids that I cannot see, who are glad that I am here.
However, when faced with the possibility of turning my back on the muddy
torrents, I cannot. I am bound to this work.
The factories we started in China, the shops we started, the people
we helped in business, are all doing well. Many, many people are
now doing things quite differently and have a vision they never had before.
Today, I am talking to ( name). She was a garbage collector.
She was one of the folks who came by with gloves on, covered from head
to foot with black cloth, a cloth over her face and a conical hat covering
her head. You could not see that there was a girl in there.
She carried a long metal wire that she used to hook garbage with.
We brought her here to learn computers. Her fourth grade education
does not cause any difficulty because folks with graduate education in
this country are very difficult to work with, let alone teach something
new to.
Thu will be making bags for bibles. Bible covers.
They will be silk with flowers. She will be hiring two of her friends
to sew them. We have been talking to Thu for a couple of weeks about
the idea. She moved into our house with her son last week.
She slept the first two days because she has never had a place to
stay where someone was not trying to rob her or take advantage of her.
She is a great kid, 24 years old and has a 3 year old son.
Her husband likes to drink, smoke and gamble. We are going
to help him too, but later. They had been separated almost two years.
Seems as though when ever she makes a break and starts to make some
money, he takes the cash and drinks it up. We do not give her any
cash, just ideas, materials and help.
Later, she will probably establish herself and turn the corner into
sustainable profit.
Of course, I have ulterior motives. I want to get her and her
family out of the muddy water, away from Sin and headed toward higher ground.
Hopefully we will be able to see another miracle.
Sigh, I feel better. I am glad the book is being put together.
I think that there is something there for the world to see.
Tomorrow, the water will be there. Tomorrow, the rain is going
to come. Tomorrow there will be refugees, trouble, turmoil and pain.
Tomorrow I will be there to see what it is I can do. Isn’t God good?
He saved me so I can stand here in the muddy water and give a hand to others.
I am so grateful.
Tomorrow. Yep, I feel better already. Maybe we will be
out of food, or the lights will be turned off, but I will always have more
than the folks in the muddy waters. God is good.
(Signature)
2006 after more years of missionary work in the USA & Mexico
Hi Rev. Karl Uhlig, it is 2:25 AM and I need to talk a bit. Despair, I have a right to be miserable. Look at all the things that are going wrong. List them. I have goals that are not being met. I have problems that are not solved. I have been disappointed, abandoned and generally misused by friends, family and people I meet. I step in gum, dog poop and get rained on. I have a right to be bummed. Kids, problems, pain. When I am bummed, I don't want to read the Bible because it is full of bummed people who have hope. I don't want to party or hang around friends because they are happy. I don't want to go to church and meet other disappointed people who are not bummed because I want to stay in my despair. I want to enjoy my despair and put some steak sauce on it and feel better about my being bummed. I have a right to be miserable, angry and bummed out. I make wrong choices every day. I choose the wrong friends, depend on those that I know can't complete their promises and watch as my best friend gets old, getting ready to die and I want to stay bummed. Before I got saved, my mistakes and wrong choices put me way past the end of my rope and I was really bummed then. Jesus came along and told me that the reason I was bummed out was because I was the Lord of my life and I was not a very good Lord. I remember giving all the problems and pain to Him. I remember the forgiveness and relief that came when I found He could straighten out all the bent nails and reconnect all the cut wires. I remember when He became Lord and started to fix things. I woke up. I was missing something. I don't know what it was. I did not know where I was. There was something really, really, really important and I could not figure out what it was. I looked around and everything was familiar but I could not find "it." I walked around looking at this and that and yes, they were important but the important thing.... It was there, just out of reach and I could not find "it." I started to pick up scraps of paper, started reading things. I looked at names and then started to read files and letters laying about and realized what "it" was. I had lost my mind. For some reason, the weight of the burdens I had recently taken on tripped a circuit breaker and blew a fuse. I had become responsible. I had become lord again. Now that was a real bummer. I was in charge. It had happened again. I lost "it," and it was the reason I got saved in the first place. I cannot handle the problems of the world, the responsibilities and the pain. The suffering and anguish. I have had some wonderful people tell me I have lost "it," and have backslid. I have had new Christians and new believers come and tell me I have lost "it," and maybe I just didn't want "it" back. I deal with hidden people, people who don't know Jesus. I am with them now. Dirty, without clothes, food, education and hope. I deal with trade agreements and listen as Senator Finestine of California tells me that we must offer citizenship to those who will work for nothing in the fields of American agriculture so we can eat cheap genetically altered foods that are killing us. I listen as they create a cast society of poor migrant workers who live in shacks and are hopeless within the borders of the USA and I am bummed. Cast systems in India, of course! They are not a Christian Nation. Cast systems in China, Vietnam, of course! They are not Christian Nations. I deal with hidden people who are oppressed by people who don't even know or care that because they buy cheap food and cheap clothes they are doing so with the blood and sweat of people they don't even know and then I get angry. I become lord of my life, lord of others and I am really not a good lord. It came back, my mind, my salvation and my love of people. Fortunately, Jesus loves even me. I spend hours and hours and hours reading the Bible, reading about the Bible, reading about people who read about the Bible and studying how God does things. Footprints in the sand, the smell of bacon, the fragrance of a flower... I can't see Him but I can see him because I see where he has been and what he has done. I have a vacuum. I have flies and bugs. I live in the dirt at the end of the world and am surrounded by people who are dying. Tonight, they came. They were leading themselves. Thanks to you, we gave them a beat up old van because the local ambulance will not go into their area. Too: dangerous, dirty, and difficult to help them. They have a van to use. A Triqui ambulance, bus and an opportunity to be "real" people... God's goodness leads to repentance. We have been working with them for 4 years. I cried for them, prayed for them, borrowed and begged for them and tried to find people to help them. I arrived at the base to find wonderful things which were sent to help the Triqui, ruined by the rain, destroyed by carelessness and neglected. I lost it. The staff my family, the people here who were supposed to help had gone to sleep and we had missionary "constipation." We had stuff for them that was going to other people and stuff for them that just never got there. Angry and confused, this last 6 months or so, I lost "it." The sewing machines were in a pile, the computers sitting out in the rooms covered in thick layers of dirt, grime and dust. Bags of clothes rotting in corners, corn and beans sprouting where they sat.... I went to Sierra Vista and tried to open a base, I tried to disciple and get people to help and found, well, destruction, carelessness and pain. In Sierra Vista, I went to parties, I visited churches and talked and talked and talked to people but I need to be here, in the dirt, in the field, hugging the Triqui. I have a vacuum. I have flies and bugs. You know, if I wave the wand of the vacuum around, nothing happens but the sucking up of dust. However, if I go really slowly, I can move the vacuum wand toward flies and bugs. First, they don't know what is coming and then they try to hold on and as the wand gets closer, they try to hold on tighter and tighter and try to not go into the tube but the suction is so strong that "thuup," they are gone. Thuup, I lost it. God told me I did not loose "it," I could have it back again, but only if He is boss. He knows about NAFTA, CAFTA, the abuse of the lost and the destruction of nations by nations who demand slave labor. He knows about Christians that have not only two shirts, but thirty, while the Triqui have none. Shoes, the kids are dying of disease because dogs poop, people spit and kids walk through it with cut feet. Thuup, we get sucked into buying, living and life. Thuup, we have bigger parties and invite more people. Thuup, we see the needy and hurting on TV and quickly change the channels of our mind to more pleasant thoughts. So, what is the moral of all of this, for me? I isn't what I ain't and need to focus on what God made me. Don't get too close to the vacuum, or "thuup," yer a gonner. On this side, I got people who got nothing. On that side, I got people with everything that want my time and attention. Hrmmmm.......... You know me. You know about my anger, my sin, and my carelessness. I do really need your prayers. Am I going to the party? No. Am I going to buy a house and settle down? Nope. Am I going to stop being angry and careless about people who cannot see what I think I see? I need to work on that one. Am I going to change priorities? Nope, as a matter of fact, I am cleaning house again and getting rid of the things of this world that so easily bind and distract me. What does this have to do with you? I dunno; I just needed to talk. You may still think I have lost "it," but I don't think I have. Grandpa is here with me in Mexico and is actually getting younger every day. It is amazing to see him back in action. Wow. I watched a dog do his business in the road. I watched as it soaked into the dust and was ground to powder by the passing cars. I went to look and saw that it was no longer there and watched as the dust floated over the Triqui kids, knowing they were breathing it and rejoiced in the fact that God has not just killed us all for our carelessness. Gotta go now. Village health care, gardens, water purification systems, ovens for bread, you know, that kind of thing. These Triqui are nice people. The Triqui came, gathered around me, talked about all the stuff they know about and cried out to God for me. They asked for grace and love and peace and they have nothing. They cleaned the base, threw away the things that were meant for them, cried and hugged and loved and, and told me I was a Triqui. It is 4:25 AM, I can sleep now.
Later,
bobby
And later in 2006
Hello Rev. Karl,
Some thoughts from the end of the earth.
Grandpa:
The Triqui:
The Triqui and Poverty:
The Triqui and business:
The Triqui and land:
The Triqui leader for the base:
Vehicles:
Missionaries:
Pain:
Prayers"
Grandpa:
Grandpa is here in Mexico with me. Grandpa is 85 and is on his way to Heaven, we are just working on timing. Grandpa insists it will be another 10 or 20 years and that may well be because he is made of some pretty tough stuff. Grandpa says all his friends who retired with him or around that time, are dead because they had no one to care for them. Grandpa and I have worked together for 30 years and I can attest that at 85, he is tough as nails.
Grandpa is having a bout of trouble right now. Insisting on getting up for prayer most nights, he has gotten a bit of pneumonia and anyone in the know knows that pneumonia is the very thing that often takes out older folks. Grandpa and I talked about it and frankly, he would rather die praying and serving people (me) than live in comfort and on drugs. The doctor came three times last night because in the mission field, we have missionary doctors who live and work with us, so making house calls is still in. Interesting huh? Try that in your area. The Doctor and I sit around and discuss illnesses, computers and genetics. Another blessing.
Anyway, last night, Sunday Evening April 17th, Grandpa was knocking on heaven's door. He is angry this morning because we made him breakfast and bothered him while he was praying so I guess he will be around for a bit more. Anger is good, family is better, but prayer works. We had a host of missionaries from around our area come by and spend most of the night taking care of the old boy. But it looks like he may stick around just to keep everyone working on him.
Pray for him, write him a letter, send him a card. Encourage him, send him a donation and he will help some kid here in Triqui land because that is what he does. He is a missionary, like it or not. Something that is pretty rare.
The Triqui, a refresher:
The Triqui are a hidden people group. 1. No indigenous self-replicating church (this seems to be changing as the Grasmans (Duane used to be the director of Operation Mobilization for the Spanish Speaking Countries) have started a small Triqui church that has started another small Triqui church, pray that this continues) 2. No Evangelism outside their own people group. (we are working on training them to go to the camps) 3. No Bible in their own language (schools training etc., in Triqui, and we are working on that too)
There is a New Testament in Triqui but getting it to them seems to be a problem. They neither read nor write so even having them around requires schools. We are teaching them to read, write and communicate biblically in Triqui. Cassettes, videos and exchange of information.
There is no plan to translate the Bible from the Old Testament into Triqui. Not enough people, 34,000 or so and they can study in Spanish (once they learn to read and write)
Poverty:
Every day, right outside my door, there are people without much hope, without much help. These are the folks who are economic migrants, people who are being used by the world to live better lives, to make it, whatever "it" is. The folks I am working with are the Triqui Indians and though I know you know that already, some folks come here and visit without ever getting to know or see or come to understand what selfishness really does to people, a people group. A group of people who have been lied to and abused all their lives, who grow up thinking it is necessary to get beat up by others, a group that think it ok to be poor and hurt and used their whole lives. I work with people who really think they deserve to get the bad end of the stick their whole lives.
Thomas, a leader of the Triqui, visited with some foreigners and spent time talking about the future of the Triqui. On his way home, he was beaten up and stabbed 7 times. Talking to him two days later, he said, "At least I am still alive." Thomas is now dead. He died a couple years ago of a heart attack. I have told his story before. I first met him 5 years ago when we started to work with the Triqui here. Things change so quickly. Leadership is required and a servant's heart is necessary. Without a servant's heart and desire to help others grow, nothing happens unless we serve. The problem is, of course, focus. How can we help many? Sometimes that requires us to leave our countries, our nations and, yes, even our families so others can grow. What happens when your family (in the case of Jesus, his family and church) and become self-centered and desire all of the attention of heaven and earth for selfishness? What happens when everything and everyone becomes centrist in their motivation? Worldwide poverty, a few very rich and many playing the "I am a son of the King and deserve the best," while the rest of the world suffers. If this seems to be a difficult problem for you, think about it from the standpoint of the Triqui.
Poverty can be a blessing, for sure. Jesus chose it as a lifestyle on earth.
Business:
The schools teach the girls to sew, and the boys mechanics and working in the field. They are pointed toward poverty and low paying jobs by their entire surroundings. I mean, why teach them the law when they are going to work in the field, right? No need to teach them to think or reason when they are going to supply the local sweat shop with labor, even if they often do not get paid.
So what are we doing about all of this? Teaching classes in business; business management and ownership. Teaching classes in computer, typing and programming, web site development and the like and trying to instill vision. Vision for a future where they do not need to live in one-room flats, remain in poverty and stay poor. A big job but something they can handle. Drugs and alcohol play a major part because feeling good at the end of the day is important and either of these can make you feel really good about yourself though the feeling goes away rather quickly. The cost of drugs is high in disease and destruct8ion of families but if there is no God, if we came from slime on rocks and our job is to feel good, like we all should, then what does it matter how you get there.
Helping the pastors help others requires a bit of training in selfishness and servant hood. Of course, it all depends on the calling of God. Why if it weren't for the savings of the wealthy that support missions there would have been no tomb for Jesus or funds for the Triqui. The question seems to be one of How much is enough? John Wesley said, make all you can, save all you can so you can give all you can. Maybe this all is what is needed.
The end result may be one of conscious and a checkbook. Look at the check book and see who is your favorite recipient of funds. Spouse, car, kids or maybe, just maybe, the lost and the hurting.
The Triqui Land:
The Triqui have new leaders on the secular front. They are growing but there is the same problem with property. The Triqui have been granted land many times and many times the government, on second thought has changed their minds and chosen to move the Triqui into other neighborhoods. Sometimes camps spring up in places where there has been no development before and as the infrastructure grows, the Government wants the land for something else. The life of poverty consumes your thoughts and actions and trains you to accept it as a normality. Poverty grows on you. No family, no problems. Ho house, things, goals, goods, less problems to think about. With drugs, it is easier to get through life without. You seem happy and your next fix makes sure the feelings are good.
So, my Triqui fall in love. Problems, relationships. Then they have kids, problems relationships and now food, housing and, and...... Then they begin to learn a skill and there are (right) more problems until you reach a breaking point where you gotta focus.
The Triqui leader for the base:
Jose Louis Sanchea is now the leader of the base. Jose is a man that we baptized into the kingdom some years back and has agreed to lead the base. He is not the product of someone who knew someone so there should be no denominational or mission questions about who he should be working for (things like that happen in the field) and he is a very, very good man. You can meet his family at the hiddenpeoples.org web site, Central America, Miguel Aleman.
Vehicles:
Yep, broken again and in need of love as well as replacement, our vehicles are dead or dying. Give it some prayer and if you find something oldish that we could use, let us know. We need to do some changing around and get this stuff up to date or changed.
Missionaries:
Service to Jesus is the only answer and denying yourself for the common good is the only solution but this is not introduced as a basis for life. The local owner of the cellular company charges 3 times here what it costs in the USA for a cellular phone because there are no market controls and no one is watching. So you either pay the dude, (who drives a wonderfully new car and lives in a fantastic house) or you loose contact with your family and friends. The only ones who seem to make it today are the really wealthy and the pushers of alternative life solutions, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, feel good foods and temporary answers. Where does that leave you? How much are you willing to deny yourself so others can receive the Word of God and live?
If you have a propensity to deny yourself and give to others, let me know. We have a lot of work to do and need folks who are willing do to more with less. Why sometimes we end up doing the impossible with nothing because that is the way life works.
Pain:
The balance between mission work, prayer, family and service can be an all day problem. Age seems to be working against me. Arthritis, busted leg and crushed disk in my back seem to get in the way. Each day I wake up and more parts seem to hurt than I had yesterday. Where is the breaking point? What is the cutoff? When do you say enough and change directions? I appreciate your prayers. Party hearty on one front and death on the other. Poverty can be painful for everyone, missionaries included. Somewhere someone is praying that you will do something with the gifts that God has given you.
Prayer:
Pray, please. Pray that people will see themselves as a part of life, a part of the land, something more than me and mine and what we can get out of life. We could end poverty, if we wanted. If we wanted, we could deny ourselves, take up our crosses, serve the rest of the world and build a better life. If we wanted.
Answers? Yes there are answers, but they depend on all of us considering each other as children of God and not someone or something to be used. What do you do when the world is going toward privatization, genetic food alteration and selfishness? How about turning your back on it and helping the poor. Sort of like Jesus, leaving heaven and becoming a man to work along side others and tell them that selfishness is not the solution?
Funds for the mission and churches we help.
BIbles for the Triqui Transportation for the pastor to visit others
WIFI for the Doctor (cantenna, etc)
Vision
Grace
Lets all try a bit and see what happens?
Bobby