It was the highlight of my week in Hermosillo. We were sitting in a little restaurant on Saturday evening listening to Terry Lingel, the host missionary, as he told us a few stories of God’s leading him to Mexico. Terry is very unassuming, and it took quite some effort to settle the chatter of the group and draw him out. But the stories were priceless. Jewels of faith.
We were there in Hermosillo to help Terry get a bunch of work done on a house he had purchased, by God’s provision, to start up yet another orphanage. Casa de Gozo, the House of Joy. In just a few months he had twelve children, already, and a wonderful Mexican couple to direct the orphanage. We were there to install all the toilets, sinks, showers, fans, electrical, and lighting in the new dormitory part of the building. We put in “miles” of conduit and wiring, a new panel, and tied in the old part of the house with the new. The day we left, with room to grow, they received five additional children. Terry and Pedro were afraid they wouldn’t be able to cap their number at thirty, because the need was so great.
Terry grew up in Idaho. Hardly ever ventured very far. But shortly after marrying Lorie they took a vacation to California. Since they were so close they ventured on down to Mexico. That was the beginning of God’s stirring their heart. Back in Idaho he encouraged the youth pastor to consider a mission trip to Mexico with some students the next summer.
The pastor was afraid of such a venture, so Terry took him on an exploratory trip. They wanted to meet up with a pastor and makes plans for the upcoming summer. When they arrived at the church on the appointed day, at the appointed hour, there was no one there to greet them. After waiting an hour they eventually met someone from the church. They were told that the pastor would be there soon, just to wait. After another hour they asked again when the pastor might arrive. They were told that he had gone down south for a funeral and would be back in about two weeks. Just wait.
So they headed for Kino Bay, and found another church. They asked around for the pastor, and once again they were told, “just wait”. Soon, though, the pastor did arrive. They began to make plans to come down and help him with his building and his ministry that summer. In the process they had to come up with a place for the students to “live” for the time they were there. They came up with a rustic setting. But one thing missing, which they must have, was working plumbing. They asked a man of the church, an expatriate American, if he could get the restrooms up and ready by the summer. The man said that he could, if only he had a pipe wrench. There was only one pipe wrench in the entire community, and it was in big demand, and cost much to rent.
Terry had taken all his tools out of his van before leaving Idaho. He brought with him only a few emergency tools for the road. Four blocks from home, though, he stopped and turned around. He went back home and picked up one more tool to take with him on the trip. A pipe wrench. He gave it to the man. With tears in his eyes, the pastor said that the pipe wrench would be an incredible blessing for their church families, and for the community. He promised to have their little “camp” ready by summer.
Kino Bay soon became the Lingel’s new home -- site of their first church, a camp for orphans, and a base from where they helped start several orphanages, a rehab center, and several other churches.
“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, This is the way; walk in it.” (Isaiah 30:21)
April 20, 2010
April 16, 2010
Fireworks
The border guard took only two minutes to search, and he turned to me and said, “Sir, I’d like you to come with me.” He even threatened me, right in front of all the students – threatened to throw me in jail and impound the bus. I felt humiliated. But I also felt betrayed.
We took our youth group down to Rocky Point, on the northern tip of the Baja California. From Phoenix it was about a four hour trip that provided a couple fun days of camping and romping on the beach. One of the big attractions in going to Mexico was buying cheap fireworks. Firecrackers, bottle rockets, M-80s – big stuff, loud stuff, the kaboom kind of fireworks. Even though I warned them clearly and sternly that they could not take any of the fireworks back across the border, I knew the desire to try and sneak them in anyways. I was younger once upon a time – been there, done that, got the t-shirt. And in the old days you could get away with smuggling them out of Mexico. The American border guards didn’t really check all that thoroughly.
But things were different when I started making the annual treks as a youth pastor. The search was becoming more serious. I was having to be more careful. So I came up with a great idea. The last night of our trip I instigated an all out fireworks war. We divided into two teams. We assigned points for all sorts of things – rockets over the back defensive lines, end around attacks, big points for a rocket hitting the enemy cache and setting off a major explosion. I don’t think anyone ever did it, but it was fun trying. Mainly, it was a way to blow off all that they had left before heading home the next morning.
My mistake was to be too trusting, too naïve, and not check for fireworks myself before heading for the border. I assumed that the students would all heed my warning and obey my instructions. But that was not the case. As the border guard boarded the bus to inspect he was congenial. But I could tell quickly that he was all business, too. He went to the back of the bus and began to check through some of the luggage. It wasn’t two minutes into the inspection that he pulled out some fireworks. That’s all he needed to make his point. He came to the front of the bus and spoke clearly and loudly, so everyone could hear it. He threatened to impound the bus, detain me, and maybe throw me in jail. I was embarrassed. We went inside and he proceeded to question me. I felt so betrayed by my students that I don’t even remember what he asked or what he said. Looking back, after the fact, I realized that he was making a statement to the students as well as to me. They got all their fireworks and turned them over when we returned to the bus. He didn’t even have to inspect. And they learned from someone much more authoritative than me that rules were rules, and they were not to be broken.
I often look back at that experience and marvel at the feeling of betrayal. And I wonder what God must feel like when I so often ignore his advice and wisdom, and betray his authority. But I also remember the grace that the border guard showed to me and the students once there was a sense of repentance. It’s a good thing he didn’t just go by the law, and throw the book at us with all its punishment and consequences. It would have turned one fun trip into a hell, never to be forgotten.
“The law was added so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 5:20-21)
We took our youth group down to Rocky Point, on the northern tip of the Baja California. From Phoenix it was about a four hour trip that provided a couple fun days of camping and romping on the beach. One of the big attractions in going to Mexico was buying cheap fireworks. Firecrackers, bottle rockets, M-80s – big stuff, loud stuff, the kaboom kind of fireworks. Even though I warned them clearly and sternly that they could not take any of the fireworks back across the border, I knew the desire to try and sneak them in anyways. I was younger once upon a time – been there, done that, got the t-shirt. And in the old days you could get away with smuggling them out of Mexico. The American border guards didn’t really check all that thoroughly.
But things were different when I started making the annual treks as a youth pastor. The search was becoming more serious. I was having to be more careful. So I came up with a great idea. The last night of our trip I instigated an all out fireworks war. We divided into two teams. We assigned points for all sorts of things – rockets over the back defensive lines, end around attacks, big points for a rocket hitting the enemy cache and setting off a major explosion. I don’t think anyone ever did it, but it was fun trying. Mainly, it was a way to blow off all that they had left before heading home the next morning.
My mistake was to be too trusting, too naïve, and not check for fireworks myself before heading for the border. I assumed that the students would all heed my warning and obey my instructions. But that was not the case. As the border guard boarded the bus to inspect he was congenial. But I could tell quickly that he was all business, too. He went to the back of the bus and began to check through some of the luggage. It wasn’t two minutes into the inspection that he pulled out some fireworks. That’s all he needed to make his point. He came to the front of the bus and spoke clearly and loudly, so everyone could hear it. He threatened to impound the bus, detain me, and maybe throw me in jail. I was embarrassed. We went inside and he proceeded to question me. I felt so betrayed by my students that I don’t even remember what he asked or what he said. Looking back, after the fact, I realized that he was making a statement to the students as well as to me. They got all their fireworks and turned them over when we returned to the bus. He didn’t even have to inspect. And they learned from someone much more authoritative than me that rules were rules, and they were not to be broken.
I often look back at that experience and marvel at the feeling of betrayal. And I wonder what God must feel like when I so often ignore his advice and wisdom, and betray his authority. But I also remember the grace that the border guard showed to me and the students once there was a sense of repentance. It’s a good thing he didn’t just go by the law, and throw the book at us with all its punishment and consequences. It would have turned one fun trip into a hell, never to be forgotten.
“The law was added so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.” (Romans 5:20-21)
April 2, 2010
Turmoil At The Tomb
The crowd was beyond imagination. The audience at the tomb was innumerable. But we all assume that no one was there except a few guards posted by the Roman governor. The Jews were afraid someone might come to steal the body of Jesus, crucified that Friday. He hinted that he would rise again in three days. So they wanted to be sure that his determined little band of followers could not heist the body and keep that rumor growing. In reality, the few loyal followers of Jesus were devastated, alarmed, and hiding in fear. All their hopes and dreams were dashed. Utterly confused by the crucifixion, they thought their faith and trust in Jesus was for naught.
But God’s eternal plan had its vortex in those three days. All spiritual hell broke loose and all heavenly power was displayed. Despite the earthquake, the darkness, the curtain of the temple torn in two, those in Jerusalem saw only what was observable on the surface of things. The Jewish leaders thought they had put to death a false prophet, a great blasphemer. While for Jesus’ followers hope seemed dead. Along with the man they thought was Messiah.
God said at the beginning of time a truth that was fulfilled in those three days. One who would come from the seed of Eve would have his heel bruised by Satan, but that promised one would crush the head of the serpent.
Some years ago a girl whom we were helping to be set free from serious demonic possession had a particular demon manifest to her outside the high school one afternoon. He tricked her into looking at a demonic object, a sigil of sorts, and let her go on. As she continued her walk to the church to come for some counseling a snake slithered out in front of her. She stopped to watch it. Suddenly its head crushed. It exploded, she said. She told me about both things when she arrived. I told her of the prophecy of Genesis 3:15, and explained the profound image God had just shown her. Several days later a poor innocent little snake walked across my own path. Reluctantly, but with purpose, I stepped on its head and crushed it. And as I did it I spoke out loud to Satan and his spiritual realm. “Satan, you are defeated and sealed for destruction. You and all your hosts. By God’s grace you have no authority over me, or over anyone who stands against you in the name of Jesus.”
So now picture the crowds, the innumerable throngs of beings who were congregated all around the tomb. The hosts of demons, the legions of misguided and duped beings who chose allegiance to Satan. They knew the prophecies. They knew what Jesus had said. Yet they thought they had won. They thought they had put to death the Son of God. They thought that God’s eternal plan of the ages was foiled. God, they were convinced, had underestimated how effective they could be in persuading the hearts and minds of the Jewish leaders, the political figures, and the throngs of the descendants of Abraham who trusted those leaders. They had won. They were celebrating. Dancing, slapping each other on the back, congratulating. Getting drunk in their own blind glory.
But then came Sunday. All of creation had been in turmoil for two days, but the third day dawned eerily quiet. A hush fell over the legions of Satan’s minions. They watched and waited. And waited. And when God’s power broke forth in all its eternal glory it was witnessed only by this horrible throng. The tombstone moved. It wasn’t visible at first. But they heard it. It creaked and groaned as it ground, ever so slightly against the rock of the hillside. The groans grew steady and the stone began to roll. They could see it. Little by little it rolled back. They stood in silence, disbelief, and defeat. Then the unthinkable. Overwhelming dismay. Bright, glorious, alive, and victorious, Jesus walked out of the tomb. He didn’t float, he walked. He wasn’t mere spirit, he was alive. They fled. Every last one of them. Yelling, screaming, accusing, back stabbing, disgraced. Celebration turned to turmoil
On the cross Jesus said, “It is finished”. The price was paid, the blood shed, our sins forgiven, redemption accomplished. They, the host of demons, did not believe it, nor could they comprehend it. In front of the tomb Jesus declared, “It now begins. Death is conquered. Grace is real and it is full of power. Try all you want to come against my saints, now, but they are mine. And your doom is sealed.”
Turmoil at the tomb. So, so much more than what met the human eye. Power that creaked and slowly rolled a stone the distance of some five or six feet. Then the vortex of eternity was fulfilled. Jesus stepped out from the grave. Our hope, our eternal life. our forever salvation. Ours, by trust alone. Do you believe?
Savior, He can move the mountains,
My God is mighty to save, He is mighty to save
Forever, author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave, Jesus conquered the grave.
(from the song “Mighty to Save”, by Hillsong)
But God’s eternal plan had its vortex in those three days. All spiritual hell broke loose and all heavenly power was displayed. Despite the earthquake, the darkness, the curtain of the temple torn in two, those in Jerusalem saw only what was observable on the surface of things. The Jewish leaders thought they had put to death a false prophet, a great blasphemer. While for Jesus’ followers hope seemed dead. Along with the man they thought was Messiah.
God said at the beginning of time a truth that was fulfilled in those three days. One who would come from the seed of Eve would have his heel bruised by Satan, but that promised one would crush the head of the serpent.
Some years ago a girl whom we were helping to be set free from serious demonic possession had a particular demon manifest to her outside the high school one afternoon. He tricked her into looking at a demonic object, a sigil of sorts, and let her go on. As she continued her walk to the church to come for some counseling a snake slithered out in front of her. She stopped to watch it. Suddenly its head crushed. It exploded, she said. She told me about both things when she arrived. I told her of the prophecy of Genesis 3:15, and explained the profound image God had just shown her. Several days later a poor innocent little snake walked across my own path. Reluctantly, but with purpose, I stepped on its head and crushed it. And as I did it I spoke out loud to Satan and his spiritual realm. “Satan, you are defeated and sealed for destruction. You and all your hosts. By God’s grace you have no authority over me, or over anyone who stands against you in the name of Jesus.”
So now picture the crowds, the innumerable throngs of beings who were congregated all around the tomb. The hosts of demons, the legions of misguided and duped beings who chose allegiance to Satan. They knew the prophecies. They knew what Jesus had said. Yet they thought they had won. They thought they had put to death the Son of God. They thought that God’s eternal plan of the ages was foiled. God, they were convinced, had underestimated how effective they could be in persuading the hearts and minds of the Jewish leaders, the political figures, and the throngs of the descendants of Abraham who trusted those leaders. They had won. They were celebrating. Dancing, slapping each other on the back, congratulating. Getting drunk in their own blind glory.
But then came Sunday. All of creation had been in turmoil for two days, but the third day dawned eerily quiet. A hush fell over the legions of Satan’s minions. They watched and waited. And waited. And when God’s power broke forth in all its eternal glory it was witnessed only by this horrible throng. The tombstone moved. It wasn’t visible at first. But they heard it. It creaked and groaned as it ground, ever so slightly against the rock of the hillside. The groans grew steady and the stone began to roll. They could see it. Little by little it rolled back. They stood in silence, disbelief, and defeat. Then the unthinkable. Overwhelming dismay. Bright, glorious, alive, and victorious, Jesus walked out of the tomb. He didn’t float, he walked. He wasn’t mere spirit, he was alive. They fled. Every last one of them. Yelling, screaming, accusing, back stabbing, disgraced. Celebration turned to turmoil
On the cross Jesus said, “It is finished”. The price was paid, the blood shed, our sins forgiven, redemption accomplished. They, the host of demons, did not believe it, nor could they comprehend it. In front of the tomb Jesus declared, “It now begins. Death is conquered. Grace is real and it is full of power. Try all you want to come against my saints, now, but they are mine. And your doom is sealed.”
Turmoil at the tomb. So, so much more than what met the human eye. Power that creaked and slowly rolled a stone the distance of some five or six feet. Then the vortex of eternity was fulfilled. Jesus stepped out from the grave. Our hope, our eternal life. our forever salvation. Ours, by trust alone. Do you believe?
Savior, He can move the mountains,
My God is mighty to save, He is mighty to save
Forever, author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave, Jesus conquered the grave.
(from the song “Mighty to Save”, by Hillsong)
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