One Way to Look at It: Light vs. Fire

If you ask a Christian what their responsibility is toward the world, many would use the image of light.  Thanks to the popular children’s song, we all know we need to let it shine and not hide it under a bushel or let the devil blow it out.  Jesus used this idea to clarify for his followers their purpose, which is the same for us now.  
 
Be a light.
 
What does that mean?  Well, what does light do?  It touches everything nearby, showing the truth of what it is.  Only in darkness can anything hide; light defines and causes nothing...it serves to illuminate the existing reality.  
 
The problem is when we attribute tasks to ourselves that have nothing to do with that task.  What does light not do?  It doesn’t cause change.  It doesn’t purify.  It doesn’t harm or benefit whatever it shines on, besides the natural consequence of being shown.  
 
Fire does that. Fire changes whatever it touches. Fire purifies. It does cause harm or benefit, depending on the substance. Light is the result of fire, not the other way around.  
 
God presents his power through fire throughout the Bible, as He led the Israelites through the wilderness as a pillar of flame.  The Bible describes God as a consuming fire when the Israelites are about to enter the Promised Land. His power over Baal is shown by the sheer force of the fire that He sent down to Elijah’s soaked altar after Baal failed to show up.  The Psalms use imagery of purification by fire.  Shadrach, Meshac and Abednego are unharmed by an extremely hot fire thanks to a holy presence.  
 
Being fire is God’s sphere.  Being light is ours, and even in that, we do best when we remember that we reflect Jesus and have nothing to show without Him. 
 
And yet it is easy to spend our effort and attention on trying to do God’s job.  I get it.  It’s natural that we would want things to be better, more in line with His kingdom. But He gave us our part to play and we would do well to trust Him with the rest.

“Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of Him who is the head, that is, Christ.”

— Paul, Ephesians 4:15

Coming to Faith

This morning I finished reading the book of Mark with a dear friend that is in a journey of seeking. I cannot explain how exciting I find it to share the end of Mark's story with others. After reading the section of Jesus on the cross and his final words, I always turn the reader to Psalm 22 where Jesus is quoting, “My God, my God, Why have you forsaken me.” If you haven't read the Psalm in its entirety, take the time to read it. The final two verses always give me chill bumps in the context of sharing Jesus's story with someone:

“Posterity will serve him; future generations will be told about the Lord, and proclaim his deliverance to a people yet unborn, saying that he has done it.”

— Psalm 22:30-31 (NRSV)

He has done it! Booyah (pardon my English expression from the nineties). There is a fire in my bones when I truly understand what it being communicated in those words.
 
We imagine hearing God's voice of authority at the baptism of Jesus. We read through the life of Jesus and imagine what it would be like to be a disciple following after this soon-to-be-King. We are in awe of Jesus's power over demons, sickness, nature, and death. We shake our heads as the disciples fail to get it time after time. We question what type of soil we are as we read through Jesus' parables. We internalize the message for ourselves as the man exclaims to Jesus, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” We sympathize with the followers as their leader is led away like a lamb to be slaughtered. We mourn with those women at the foot of the cross after they have witnessed a horrific death to a man of humility, compassion, and honor. We discuss the freedom we have in Christ and the barriers that have been removed when the curtain is split in two. We are in awe that the centurion, a Roman Gentile, is the first to confess Jesus' name after he breathes his last, but then we rejoice with the women that proclaim the news of the resurrection. We cling to hope that he does what has been promised since the days of old. For he has done it!
 
I explain to my friend that I want her to make a commitment to God. But I don't want her to commit from pressure she feels from me. I want her to feel the pressure from the Holy Spirit. It is her decision, and it is not a decision to take lightly. Taking up your cross to follow is not a walk in the park. We discuss making covenant with God in front of the family of God, and through the act of baptism that is such a powerful symbol of dying to self but being raised in Christ. We discuss the Holy Spirt and the meaning of circumcision of the heart. We mention “the kingdom of God” being here and now and not yet. I share why the phrase “freedom in Christ” is so special to Christians. She tells me she is so close to making this decision. She tells me she needs to read and reflect. We pray; we hug; we plan our next time together.
 
Coming to faith is the work of the Spirit. The Spirit transforms us. But he only is able to do his work completely when we are seeking. My friend is seeking. It is my prayer that I call her sister very soon, and then I will rejoice. For he has done it!

One Way to Look at It: Prayer

From where I stand at the kitchen sink, I can see into the laundry room through a window.  It is a clear view to where we have set up a small table for arts and crafts for the kids.  They color, cut, and draw to their hearts’ content.  I can see their work and hear their conversation.  I basically know what they’re up to anytime they are in there while I work in the kitchen, even without them telling me about it.  
 
I have heard criticism of the practice of of listing out prayer requests to then pray about, likening it to a family conversation around the dinner table, where the children discuss amongst themselves what they will say to their parents, then turn to deliver the information to them, even though the parents were present through the entire conversation already.  There is no need in this situation to delineate which part of the discussion was intended for them; they got the whole thing.  So why discuss prayer requests and follow it with a prayer that repeats it all?  Can God not hear the entire time? 
 
I have heard the opposite, that any discussion of prayer needs and life struggles deserves the blessing of purposeful prayer, to distinguish the need and response beyond a basic conversation between two people. In this instance, it is not about being necessary, but about lifting the conversation to a different plane, not for the purposes of informing, but of offering.
 
But there’s something else that is easily forgotten.  It is not just about what we say or how we say it, or if we frame it with a beginning and end or not, or if we use formal language or not.  It is about to Whom we talk.
 
I watch my kids do their projects and create their masterpieces.  I neither need information from them, nor do I need them to demonstrate the importance of their efforts.  However, I love that they value me enough to want to show me.  At my simple request to tell me about it, they are off and running, describing their choice of form, color, image, material, folding, staple placement...they love telling me, and I love hearing it.  It’s neither necessary nor merely holy.  It’s relationship.  I show them how I value their contribution by listening, and they show me how they value my knowledge of them by opening up and sharing.  Whatever they have done is made more real by our sharing of it.
 
And God is our Father.  Prayer should not be limited to informing Him of our troubles and our suggested solutions to them, with the caveat that He choose otherwise if He sees fit.  Nor should it be limited to a verbal sprinkling of holy water to deem a life experience officially handed over.  These two approaches focus too narrowly on what exactly we do and how we do it.
 
Remembering why we do it can make a huge difference.  
 
It’s about conversation with Someone close to us, eager to hear what we have to say, uninterested in eloquence or efforts to impress. Just talk to Him, discuss life, questions, frustrations, exciting experiences...everything.  Will you choose to include your desires and requests?  Sure.  Will you hand over your daily life as an offering as you share it?  Absolutely.  Those are good parts of prayer.  Just remember that He wants to hear about what you are drawing and what it means to you, too.  And as a good conversation with a close friend can result in us gaining clearer insight and understanding into our own experiences, so can a good, personal conversation with God help focus our vision and align our hearts more with His.

Celebrating Life

This month, I turned 31 years old. It was my 5th birthday to celebrate in Arequipa. I decided this year that I wanted a “night out” with some girlfriends on my big day. I wanted to share a picture from that night, and tell you why each of these relationships are special to me during this time.

Nadia is my neighbor, and if you have kept up with our story here you know that Nadia was baptized last year. She is such a dear friend to me. We both share the same profession. She has volunteered with me in the library program at times, and I love having a Peruvian friend to talk to about cultural differences in the school system. Also, we started our friendship right at a time when I needed someone just like her. She came requesting English classes (I desperately needed those conversations in my native tongue). Our English class turned into a Bible study. Nadia was the first person with whom I shared the story of Jesus. I will never forget that. During furlough, I found a Willow Tree Angel holding a book. I bought it for Nadia and gave it to her for her birthday in November. I told her that she would always remember me when she saw that little figurine on her table. For my birthday, she gave me a little figurine that she bought in the market here. You can bet that wherever I am living in 50 years that little figurine will be in a place that I can see.
 
Sitting next to Nadia is Areli. What a beautiful personality that girl has! She is Etelvina's daughter. (Etelvina is a dear sister in the church who we absolutely love to pieces.) The thing I love about my relationship to Areli is that we are kindred spirits in laughter. If you know me, you know that I love to laugh. Sometimes, when crossing cultures, it is hard to feel like you understand jokes or are able to be funny around those from a culture different than yours. That is not the case with this amiga. I find such joy in hearing her laughter, and it is contagious. We don't need to sit together in a meeting where no noise is allowed. Ha! Areli and I have been studying the book of Mark together. She is such a good person, and she is earnestly seeking something deeper for her life. It is my prayer that she decides to follow Christ whole-heartedly in the near future. God has blessed me with a friend to laugh with, and I am so blessed by her friendship.
 
That gringa you might not recognize is named Katie Daggett. Katie and her husband, Jeremy, are part of the team moving to Arequipa in 2014. They decided to come to Arequipa and take 2 months of language classes to better prepare themselves for the field. What is really special about the two of them is that they are where Greg and I were 7 years ago. Jeremy is studying at Harding School of Theology in Memphis, and the two of them are about to work with the same Hispanic church where Greg and I worked during our time in Memphis. It has been such a blessing to get to know them better, to share dreams about the future work here in Arequipa, and to answer the many questions they have about moving here. For me, Katie symbolizes the things to come in Arequipa. I am excited that my family's remaining time will overlap some with her family, but I am even more excited to see what God will do through them and the rest of their team in the years to come. Pray for Team Arequipa 2.0. We are so excited about them joining the work here.
 
Next to Katie is Emilia. Oh how I love Emilia. She has been a Christian for many years, and she recently moved to Arequipa from Lima. Her joy and fervor for the Lord are contagious, and she has such a passion to work in children's ministry. Larissa and I know that Emilia was a God-send to our church in the realm of working with the children. It is wonderful to see a Peruvian that is mature in faith. She has blood family in the city, but she thrives on spending as much time with her brothers and sisters in Christ as she can. She knows a little bit of English, and we get such a kick out of her practicing and asking questions. She is so much fun to be around. My children love “Bible class with Emilia,” and I thank God for a Christian sister that is equipped to help teach them when the church is together.
 
You should recognize that other gringa. I told Larissa the other day that it will be so hard to know life without her family in our lives (as in the same city) when the day of our departure comes. We shared our time in Memphis with the Smiths to prepare for our mission work. We shared in the joy of having our first children in Memphis (there is only a 3 month difference between Ana and Shaye). We moved together to live for 6 months in Tyler and 6 months in Arequipa. We have not known this work without the Smiths. We love them dearly, and we have been through so much together in our time here. Larissa knows a part of me that no one else can understand. We have lived, grieved, rejoiced, waited, misunderstood, been confused, and celebrated as missionary wives in Arequipa, Peru. There just aren't too many people that I share that with. I love her dearly, and it will sadden me greatly when the day comes that we separate. But I am so grateful for her service to the kingdom in this city. I am grateful for how she strives to be a good wife and mother. And I am grateful for her friendship as a friend, but much more so as a sister in Christ.
 
It was a very special group of people that night. It is hard to imagine that I only have one more birthday left to celebrate in Arequipa. But God has certainly given me a reason to celebrate life here.

One Way to Look at It: Climb

The task is simple.  Climb.  And carry what you’ve been given.  
 
There are paths weaving and crossing their way up the hill.  There is the Door at the bottom, where the One stands, assigning crosses to be born while ascending.  

He knows.  He was the first.
 
The paths are littered with followers.  Some press on, one small step at a time.  They barely look up.  They feel that they will never arrive, but they never stop either.  Others plow ahead in bursts, then stop and gaze upward, pausing too long in their wondering of how long will it take to get all the way up there?!  Some seem to walk in circles, or go up one stretch only to turn downward in another.  
 
There are those who focus on the crosses shouldered by others.  Some find their own crosses too light and worry that they aren’t doing their due by carrying so little, and in doing so risk confusing the mercy of a light load with not shouldering enough.  Others find their crosses too heavy and have come to a halt, complaining that until someone makes it easier, they cannot be expected to push forward in this endeavor, forgetting that it is always and forever a choice that they can walk away, but whether they stay or go, their own feet must take the steps.
 
Then there are the routes available.  Some are smoother.  Some are far more treacherous, strewn with loose pebbles that make the very ground move under a footstep.  Each can choose their own direction, though most are communicating in one way or another - warning against a hard way, encouraging toward a good one, even complaining that those who are not walking the exact same patches of dirt must not be heading toward the same end, must surely not be as earnest in their intention to honor the example of the King.
 
But progress is not to be measured in speed, trajectory, population, burden or lack thereof.  None along the way can accurately determine the value of another’s path combined with their burden, strength, conviction and influence.
 
The task is simple.  Climb.  And carry what you’ve been given. 

One Way to Look at It: Hope

Meet Misti, the volcano that represents Arequipa much like the skyline of New York. Among the three that surround the city, Misti draws the most attention, towering at 19,101 feet. What is less clear, however, is that its neighbor, Chachani, is taller, at 19,872 feet, because due to being farther away, it appears shorter. Proximity demands our attention, and things at a distance shrink from view.

My father-in-law, David Smith, died earlier this month. He was hospitalized very suddenly and quickly declined, which resulted in our decision to travel back and be with the family. We rushed into the country and dove headfirst into the situation only days before he passed. To say it has been a shock is putting it far too mildly. Even as we work to navigate the business of losing a family member and redefining life, it has not felt real and somehow all too real at the same time. Needless to say, it dominates our field of vision. It may not be the biggest thing going on in the world, but as the closest, it looms largest for us. Everything else, from minutia to plans to holidays to major crises, recedes into the background.

Hope is a background thing. Far off, small, easily dismissed.

I recently heard someone say that if a pessimist sees a glass as half-empty and an optimist sees the same glass as half-full, hope knows the glass will be filled again someday. It’s the ability to stand up yet again to a bully’s blow because you see your big brother on his way to your defense. Something is different because you see change heading your way.

This is easy to think about, but excruciating to apply when we live experiences of pain, weariness and loss. We can know that things will be made right one day, but we ache against the wrongness around us right now. We can believe that Jesus will rework the world and perfect it all, but we wrestle with the imperfections that tangle around us right now. We can trust that we will be filled and reunited, but we find ourselves empty and lonely right now. We can look forward to understanding, but we drown in our questions for now.

Even in faith, hope can seem too far off, too small because it is a background thing. Though it is big enough to cover everything we experience, we cannot fathom how that tiny speck on the horizon will envelope the brokenness of our world and make it whole. It appears insufficient to fill even the hole in our own hearts when they feel shattered or lonely or angry or weak or sad.

We have to consciously choose to stand back up and face the bully, though it be to yet another blow, because we know that He is coming. And for my part, for today, when the struggles that vie for my focus close in, I will choose to look beyond and remember the power that waits patiently in the background.

December at a Glance

December has certainly kept us on our toes. We have greatly missed the Smith family. We are excited for their return on the last day of the month! This has been the first year that we have not spent one of the holidays (Thanksgiving and Christmas) with our teammates in Arequipa. They were sick on Thanksgiving, and they were obviously not here on Christmas. When you come to the field with one other family, it is very obvious that things are not the same when one family isn't present. We eagerly await their arrival. Aria and Shaye both celebrated birthdays this month. We look forward to some post-birthday celebrating with them.

I continue to be very excited about the Living Libraries work. Neil Cantrell, another missionary here, has signed on to co-lead the program with me in the coming year. The dream, obviously, is for a Peruvian to be hired to lead the library work. But until we receive the funding, that will not be a reality. As a stay-at-home-mom, I am only able to dedicate one day of the week to visiting the schools. With Neil's help, we hope to share the load next year. I will still dedicate my one day to visiting the classrooms, but he is willing to go to the schools two days a week. We hope to have more of a presence in the actual library space as well as the classrooms. Also, we will be receiving a fluency kit to help us in testing the kids' reading levels. This is exciting for us because we know we will be in the door from day one of school starting, and we can test a sample group of kids throughout the year to see if our work is making a difference.

Abraham, one of our CUDA employees, will be working with the teachers and principals in the area of conflict management. We have a meeting set for this Saturday with school faculty. One of the school principals approached us with some faculty dynamic issues, and she is seeking extra help from the NGO. That is really exciting to me. One, I feel like this past year served as a time to lay a foundation of trust with the schools. Two, this is where part of the holistic model of our ministry plays a role. We are there to serve the whole person: student and teacher alike. Aside from that opportunity, one of the third grade teachers I worked with all year has requested to study the Bible with me over the summer break. God is certainly opening doors through this ministry.

For Christmas, the CUDA staff, family, and some members of the church acted out a Christmas drama at the two schools. Emilia, a new member to the church, has a lot of experience with children's ministry. We welcomed her ideas for dramas we could use in the schools. The children seemed to enjoy the production, and it was a great message to present along side the traditional drama they see of Jesus' birth.

It is becoming an annual tradition to have our celebration meeting the Sunday before Christmas out at Naranjal. One of our house churches meets in this poor community, and they are usually unable to participate in the celebration Sundays throughout the rest of the year. This year, the church acted out the same drama that Emilia recommended for the schools, served paneton and hot chocolate (the traditional Christmas treat), shared in communion, and gave out toys to the children in the community that had been donated. It was a beautiful Sunday.

At the Naranjal Sunday meeting, the church met two of its newest members. We are excited to share with you that Alfredo and Judith (after going through a long process and waiting for a call) brought their two adopted sons to the gathering for all of us to meet. Andres is two years old, and Ángel is 1 year 2 months. They are brothers, and they are absolutely adorable. We are so happy for Alfredo and Judith, and we pray for wisdom and God's blessings as the boys adjust to their new home.

Many blessings to you and yours for the coming year from the church in Arequipa!

Pray for 2013

My family just lost its permanent visas. I feel a great deal of frustration about the situation. The reason that we lost them was fair enough, but it was something of a technicality. I think I would feel better if there had been some major issue or injustice, actually. As it is, the time and money we will lose in order to remain in Peru one way or another seems frivolous.
Our first prayer is that we be able to remain in country without any problems. There is no reason to think that will not happen, but things are at least more precarious than before.

A close second is our prayer that CUDA would not be negatively affected. We are just to the point of finishing some legal procedures in country that, hopefully, will not require my visa to complete.

Too many good things are planned for this year to be utterly gloomy about our news. Not least, tomorrow and the next day some of our future teammates arrive for a visit. It is a sign of blessings to come. Later in the year we will have summer interns, a large group of students led by Bill and Holly Richardson, and the arrival of long-term apprentices Andrew and Bethany Gray from Australia. Please pray for funding for all of these arrivals and consider helping them financially (contact us via email if you would like to give).

One Way to Look at It: Trees

Imagine if you described a tree to someone who had no knowledge of them before.  You might sketch a picture or use your hands to indicate its form.  You could wrap the details of leaves and branches in words and leave them inspired.  And then imagine that they decided that they needed a tree, and proceeded to build one.  They bought wood, cut it out, maybe bought some fake leaves and affixed them throughout the carved boughs.  They could do a masterful job of making a copy of a tree.  But you can’t build a tree.  It has to grow.  
 
Sometimes we do this with our faith.  
 
The Bible is chock-full of stories.  Some describe truly heroic people.  Some describe bumbling idiots who happen to do something heroic in spite of themselves.  Some describe rules for life, either for a particular people or in principle.  Some are letters sent directly to a church in a city in which we glimpse one side of an ongoing conversation and relationship and are blessed by the wisdom we can glean from it.  Some is meant for beauty, to express something of the writer’s experience of God and give Him glory.  God’s work is the theme throughout and Jesus the most important character in the broader narrative.  We learn from Him both by example and teaching, and watch how those who knew Him best went to work on His behalf.  It’s an intimidating conglomeration of words and meanings and what-do-I-do-with-this-little-piece moments.
 
But it is not a list of instructions on how to build a tree.  Or a faith.  
 
Simply put, faith has to grow.  It has to start with what little bit we have to put in and the seed God gives and let it take root.  We are familiar with the teaching the parable of the sower, but we often misinterpret it.  We kind of have a mentality that says, “Oh, well.  If so-and-so is having this specific response to it all, they must not have been good soil.  Too bad, so sad.  At least I’m good soil.”  But the response is always a choice.  Not for dirt, but for people.  The path is too hard?  Loosen it up.  The rocks prevent roots?  Get rid of them.  The thorns choke the plant?  Clear them away.  Think you’re good?  Check again; you will probably find that, on your bad days, the thorns sneak back in.  Work the soil to make it good.  Do whatever it takes to encourage (not demand) growth in your own life, then let God to the God part.  He will grow the tree.  He doesn’t ask us to build it.  
 
If you’re thinking this is not a struggle for you, consider this: When you read the fruit of the Spirit passage, do you hear it as a checklist of things you should be?  If you find yourself thinking, “This is an intense list, but at least I’m naturally self-controlled and gentle.  So what if patience and joy are slower to come? I’ll get there. One thing at a time.”  Or do you recognize a list of descriptors of what happens when the Spirit leads a life?  As in, “Well, I know these things don’t come naturally, but I can tell that when I am more connected with God, patience and faithfulness come much more easily, so I want to stick even tighter so all these descriptors can start blooming in my life. That’s exciting.”  
 
Think about it.  You can no more demand an apple of a tree that is unhealthy than you can demand kindness of yourself when you are spiritually unwell.  If our lives right now don’t reflect that list, it’s an indication that it’s time to get to work clearing out whatever is hindering the growth that the Spirit brings.  We cannot just choose to live better.  That’s kind of why we need Jesus in the first place.  Otherwise we risk carving wooden fruit to hang on our fake tree and remain baffled as to why things don’t quite feel whole. And let’s face it:  A handmade tree looks a little silly and outsiders aren’t drawn to having one of their own.
 
The bottom line is: This is all God’s thing.  It’s His tree growing in us.  It’s His kingdom growing into a forest.  It’s not about merely understanding what that should look like so we can try harder.  It’s about bringing everything under His rule so that He can infuse it with what it needs to bring Him even more glory. 

The Sower

This past Celebration Sunday, I had the privilege to teach the kids' class.  We read through the parable of “The Sower.”  Various church members brought real seeds, rocks, cactus spines, and good soil for the children to actually see the components of the story.  After using these visuals, we told the story again with edible visuals.  We “planted” chocolate candies.  We added crumbled Oreo “rocks.”  We observed the “thistle” pretzel sticks.  And then we added some chocolate pudding as the “good soil.”  It was a very delicious activity.  I didn't mind teaching the kids class one bit (wink, wink).
 
Since Greg and I returned from furlough, I have experienced a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts.  For those that don't know, Greg and I will be leaving Peru in two years.  Greg desires to study more and earn a doctorate.  We feel that it is the next chapter in our journey together, and the timing of it all places us in Arequipa until January 2015.  Arequipa is our home.  We have celebrated more anniversaries in this city, we have had two children that carry Peruvian passports, we have established ourselves here as family.  We were convicted to move here in 2008, and throughout the past four years we have worked hard to make a dream for this city become reality, and we have fallen in love with many of the Peruvian people in the process.  It is hard to imagine life outside of Arequipa.
 
Greg and I have prayed so much about this decision, and I feel good about the timeline.  But before we left for furlough, a huge part of my heart ached for these people.  In a sense, I feel like we are “abandoning” family.  I cried when we said good-bye to our house church before furlough.  I do not want to imagine the blubbering of tears I will display in the months leading up to January 2015.  But God has taught me a huge lesson in my time here...
 
He is the sower.  Sometimes he uses me to plant a seed.  Sometimes he uses me to water or pull thistles away from a plant.  But the point of him being the sower is that I am just a part of the process in Kingdom planting.  We are excited beyond words about a team of four couples that is choosing to come join the work we began here four years ago.  Several of the couples will overlap with Greg and me in our final year, then continue working with the Smiths, and I cannot express the joy that brings to me in knowing that these four precious families will be partnering with Peruvians that are now growing in leadership and maturity in the Spirit.
 
I have struggled with the language, but God has showed me time and time again what he can do with a willing spirit that says “Here am I.  Send me.”  I expressed to Greg the other day that I know my Spanish has greatly improved, but I am pretty sure that I still wouldn't be an “expert speaker” if we chose to live here twenty years.  Who knows if I am correct.  Who knows if we end up moving back to Peru again in the distant future.  But one thing I am confident of is that I was part of Kingdom sowing while I was here.  Maybe I am not the one to run the library program as a fluent Spanish speaker, but maybe God needed me to plant the seeds for that program to really launch.  Maybe I will never fully connect to these women's lives that I am studying with–there are certainly plenty of language and cultural barriers that seem impossible to overcome at times.  But I am confident that I have been part of God sowing seeds in these women's lives, and I am excited to be a part of the growing process while I am still here.
 
Have you ever been in a situation where you know big change will happen in a short time?  It is easy to check out or distance yourself from those around you.  I have been thinking a lot of what these two years should look like for me.  What is it that will make the greatest impact in our ministry here?  My friends know that I won't always be around.  This past month, I read this verse in light of the communion we shared together:  

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

— John 13:34-35

Wherever we go, wherever we live, whoever we fellowship with, they will know us by our love.  It is my prayer that I can demonstrate this in its fullest form to the Peruvians around me in the coming two years.  I am excited for others to carry a torch that I have been carrying in the four years we have lived here.  I am so thankful for those that planted seeds before we even arrived.  I am even more grateful to know that God is in control of his planting, and one day we might get to see how a crop “multiplies thirty, sixty, or even a hundred times” (Mark 4:8).