The Gates of Hell

“When life knocks you on your knees, your in the perfect position to pray.” –unknown

I have never seen so many people reject Christ. Sure I have read stories of mockers and sinners; but never in real life—in my life. It hurts. You know if you have been around people who just flat out make a mockery of Jesus, people who drag his name through the mud. We went to Buenos Aires on Monday, maybe a 100 of us, to evangelize. We took an evangelism course the week prior to that day and learned ways to best portray the gospel to a city like this one. Now it was students’ day, the first day of spring (first day of fall back home), and all of the students throughout the whole city had the day off. On this very special day, the place to be was the central park where thousands and thousands of young people would be. However this was different from most places back home. The side of the park we chose to make our run was not the opportune side for the light-hearted. It wasn’t the side where families would go picnicking or kids would play Frisbee; or walking the dog was the “cool” thing to do. We went to the side that was contaminated with teens and young adults eager for a good time. The side where God’s name was worth no more than the city dump. We chose to battle the side that denied His very existence. We chose to battle what seemed like the gates of Hell.

They were doing drugs out in the open. They were all drunk by noon. And sexual intercourse was not an uncommon thing to do behind the nearest tree. Granite it wasn’t everywhere you looked, and not everyone was as bad as the other; but it was a whole different ballgame than anything I have ever done. There were fights and smokers, and police without a care in the world. And there we were, standing there with our tracks, our translators, and the Holy Spirit. A few of the forth year students had a message planned out: they would set up a stand on a street corner and would paint a number game on the paper. People would gather around out of curiosity, and us Christians would scatter amongst the crowd. After the game, which was pretty cool (It was one of those games where the crowd would pick numbers and it would always add up to the same number, always one answer, and they would then say that God is the only answer to life), they would have this really could picture type puzzle thing that would help them tell the gospel. They would yell to the bystanders, only so they could hear, about our need for a savior to cover up our sins and about God’s love—simple, but effective. Now this was not a phony kind of in your face message we sometimes hear on the streets at home, with loud speakers and “You are going to hell” type speeches, but it was blunt and straightforward as needed. But after our WOL student would finish, we would uncover from being incognito with the crowd, and we would find those who seemed interested throughout the whole gospel message. Before the small crowd could disperse, we would be there, with tracks in hand, following up on the message and making sure they understand, leading in prayer if they desire to do so We would always start out with around 30 or so people, but would lose some as the message went one. There were key points that I notice would turn off most of the listeners. As soon as the WOL student would write words like “Pecado” or “Dios” (Sin and God), the listeners would clear out. I was standing with one of my translators and he was telling me some of the things people around were saying. A group of girls walked by and yelled out, “I sin all the time and I don’t care.” Other remarks were made that I don’t want to repeat. But that hurt me. I was actually almost brought to tears because I have learned more of God’s grace and love in the past few weeks than I have in a while as I have drawn really close to Him. God loves those who spit on Him and deny His goodness every day. He loved me even when I did not love Him back. That made me yearn to bring these people to Christ even more. When the presentation was finished, the traveling preachers would pick up their paint stand, gather up the few testifiers that helped in the message, and moved on to the next street, repeating the process many times. We had to leave by four in the afternoon, however, because it gets way to dangerous after that time.

So I went out, with a vision in mind. I wanted to stand up on a rock, yell to everyone that God loves them and that they need Jesus, maybe throw in John 3:16, and just watch as the people flock to become saved… yeah… didn’t quite work that way. I think I shared the gospel with around 12 people. 2 got saved (praise the Lord), but they just would not listen. I would go through the gospel and they would be ready. So I would ask them to pray, and they would not. “There are too many people around,” or, “I just don’t feel like it,” or, “I believe in Deism,” (no joke). I had some crazy remarks. But people did get saved so it was all worth it. The gates of Hell—no match for the Kingdom of Heaven.

What a wonderful experience it was though, I could definitely see myself staying just so that I can keep witnessing in that city. And the weather felt amazing yesterday, but its cold and rainy again today. Oh well. And my job is very interesting ha ill talk about that later. The gates of Hell—no match for the Kingdom of Heaven.

“For the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength, and the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom.” –1 Cor. 1:25

Don't look back

Is it wrong not to miss home? I miss people, I miss my family; but am I wrong to love where I am at so much that I don’t really want to look back. I heard a story about a man who said, “God is calling me to go, not to come back.” I want to live by that saying.

There was a student a long time ago, Ramon Rivas, who went through this Bible Institute down here in Argentina. While he was here, he felt the knocking of God at his heart. God was pressing on his spirit to move to the jungles of South America to share the gospel with those who have never heard of Jesus. Rivas found his wife at this school and they got married just before making the risky decision of sharing and living in the jungles. While living in that area, the river is the best form of transportation; and they didn’t exactly have USS Arizona while traveling. A good ol’ fashion, hand-made rowboat provided their only protection, which wasn’t much. I say protection because the part of the world that Rivas chose to mission in was plagued with drug trade. Illegal and private companies there would force locals to help produce the drugs and to secretly work as their refusal would cost them their lives. Now Rivas was a man who feared God, so naturally he was successful in what God called him to do. He brought many who have never been told about the wonderful life of Jesus to Christ. However, as you know, a true life for God will always go against, and even sometimes offend, the world. The more people that Rivers and his wife converted, the fewer workers these drug traders had to make their produce. One day, just a normal day (but then again how is any day living on faith alone in the jungles normal), Rivas was on the river in his little boat. I am sure that he was talking to God, or enjoying the sights around him while he was flowing peacefully down the river; or maybe just relaxing after a hard nights sleep. But whatever he was thinking or doing, it was cut short. Some of the drug traders were really becoming annoyed and angry with this successful missionary. So they tracked him down and shot him. They killed him right on the spot, for lifting their workers from death to life. Rivas showed them how to leave the life of slavery, never to look back, and to become servants for Christ—and he was murdered for it. Ramon Rivas reminds me of Jesus almost. He left his home to live among the lost people in the Jungle—a place most people could not bring themselves to visit, much less live. He became the only man who was doing the right thing, and the people with influence in the area killed him for it. What an awesome example he is.

Before his death, while studying here in Argentina, he felt like he had to confide in his counselor, telling of his powerful calling and God’s plan. His counselor, though proud of his ambitious attitude, warned of the dangers of the jungle. He advised him to think before making any rushed decisions. Rivas respectfully listened, stood up, lifted his chin in knowledge that the Holy Spirit and the armies of heaven were behind him, and said in confidence, even if God was the only one who supported him, “God called me to go, not to come back.”

So he went as God called him to go, and he did not come back. I love that story, and there is a hallway on campus named after this martyr. But Things are still going great. I have practically no time anymore Tuesday through Friday as we now have a Job and sport that we do everyday after class. And we are going to BA on Monday to witness to thousands of students, so I am pretty hyped about that. We have Spanish class in the morning and then Bible class… well that’s in the morning too. My days have never felt so long and I have never been more tired at night, but it’s till pretty awesome. Ill let yah know how BA goes Monday but I don’t have as much time to write as much as I did. Oh and I now have like 6 verses memorized in Spanish… just saying.

Take one step at a time as God calls you, even if you don’t know the ending, or even the second step, of His perfect plan—something I have had to learn.

“If ye be reproached for the name of Christ, happy are ye; for the spirit of glory and of God resteth upon you: on their part he is evil spoken of, but on your part he is glorified.” –1 Peter 5:14

The Perfect Giver

“A man can no more diminish God's glory by refusing to worship Him than a lunatic can put out the sun by scribbling the word, 'darkness' on the walls of his cell.” –C. S. Lewis

Ok so its like you get a gift, which is awesome, and you love that gift. You are just as excited to have it than you are to play with it. You were happy, satisfied, thinking that this gift, because of the perfect giver, could not be exceeded by anything else. But then, unexpectedly, just when your situation could not get any better, your giver blows your mind by offering undeserved attachments to the gift, passing your limits of imagination by such a distance that the Large Binocular Telescope Observatory could not even spot it. The original gift expands to a range that you were ever able to visualize yourself having. It’s kind of like that with me.

I arrived here and fell in love with it instantly, before I really knew anything about it. I had an idea of how it would be and an expectation of how things would work. And then God, the perfect giver, exceeded my expectations by a long shot. We had some more orientation today about ministry and services. I cannot explain everything WOL is doing down here without writing like 27 pages on it but they have such a strong foundation and are constantly changing the lives of students and locals alike. Every weekend students go out to different churches to help out from Friday to Monday. As PBB students, we will be in the training program though. They will be teaching us how to work as missionaries and how to serve in our WOL Bible clubs in which we will be assigned according to the country of our choosing (I chose Italy, Guatemala, and Republica Dominicana—I will be placed in one). That’s another area that requires a whole other post. We are required to be involved in a ministry each week as part of our grade. Once you begin the actual BI program your window of ministry opportunities opens up to a whole new range as your training will be complete, which is why I am considering staying and finishing next year off. Let me explain: we will learn Spanish until next April. The school year down here begins officially in April and goes until Nov. Next April we will begin as first year Bible Institute Students with all the others—Full Bible classes in all Spanish. However we are able to graduate from the PBB program in July and come home, my original plan. But I could stay till November of next year to complete a full year in the WOL Bible institute as a first year graduate. Just a possibility, praying about it.

But anyway they were also telling us that after the summer camp and activities next Jan. and Feb., they are taking us to the Southern part of Argentina to a town and we will be sharing the gospel, in Spanish, on the streets, in Spanish, with no translators… in Spanish. Did I mention that we will be doing it in Spanish? I cannot even imagine myself witnessing in Spanish to Argentines, crazy thought. I read in the book Crazy Love that we, as Christians, need to be constantly putting ourselves in situations where if God doesn’t come through, we would be in a lot of trouble. If God doesn’t come through with me this year, daily, I would be, for the lack of a better word, nailed (get it?). But you know what the great thing about living this way is? He does. He promises that He always will provide for us in a way that will best suit us, even when we don’t know what is best for our life; and a lot of times I don’t, despite what I think. Its like the gift, I assumed it was the best I could get; but God, knowing me even better than I do, keeps on surprising me. Why would anyone reject Him and the Christian life—its awesome! Ha

We are going to BA (Buenos Aires) sat for like a tour day so ill let you know how it goes. IM EXCITED. Oh and that story about the graduate that went here.. it’s a powerful story. Ahh I have so many things to tell you!! Ha but yeah. And I am going to start posting up pics soon

“For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline.“ –2 Tim. 1:7

First Sunday

“And only a great God does for His children what they can’t do for themselves” –Max Lucado”

We had our first church service Sunday, which is awesome not only because its church but we are able to sleep till like 8:30 on Sundays because breakfast doesn’t start till nine. But we all sat together in the little auditorium place and were given headsets to wear while a translator spoke into them via a microphone in the back. So I learned more in this church service then I have in a very long time (el oh el). But I really enjoyed the service—I had to dress up in a full suit and tie and sport jacket and fake Rolex and all of that other stuff I never wear to church. I actually like dressing up. It gives me a feeling of legitimacy and significance. I feel as if I am definitely doing the right thing as my clothing lets out a feeling of confidence while my laid back personality balances it out to an agreement between seriousness and casualness. However as I sat in the church with my overpowering, black earphones attached to the bulky device receiving the translation, I was filled with a little more humility; and I am sure the rest of the PBB (Bilingual Bible Program) students had similar experiences as well. But it’s all good, everyone there understood and respected us for trying.

We started off singing songs in a way most young Americans back home wouldn’t appreciate and simply see as boring. It was not straight hymns and organs and opera-like singing—there was a guitar—but we did sing traditional, purely church songs that have been regrettably lessened to a level of unimportance in some places around the world. I am not against contemporary worship, as it is my style of worship; and I am also not against old traditional hymns. I just hate to see churches and organizations judge other styles and worship as wrong or sinful merely because it’s different. First of all it’s not our place. The worship leader at Liberty University nailed it on for me. He said that he doesn’t care how you dress or what style of worship you prefer, as long as your heart is there. True, sincere worship is true, sincere worship—no matter what instruments are used. But anyway… sorry about that ha

But I recognized some of the songs as I am familiar with English traditional worship, and singing them in Spanish was aided by my experience in Camino del Rey back home as I have learned how to pronounce and say many words in Spanish through song (even though I am not always sure what I am singing… well okay most of the time I am not sure). And I did in fact recognize and know some of the songs that we sang, especially in the Sunday night service, which is more casual and contemporary. We sang todo poderoso (of course), te alabare, porque grande eres tu (For you spanish people please excuse the spelling) and some other songs I knew but can’t remember the name to. While all of the PBB students were looking at the screen and attempting to get just one or two phrases out of their English speaking mouths to sing the song, I kept my head forward and sang with pride as I knew the words and the meaning of the songs (J) ha im just kidding… but I did know the songs.

The preaching was great. Joe Jordan, because he is here this weekend, preached and did a magnificent job, like always. He preached on Job, one of my favorite stories, and why bad things happen to good people. He said something that I never really thought of. In Job 3:23 we learn that Job had always feared of losing all that God had blessed him, so he never really 100 percent enjoyed all that God had given him because he was secretly scared of losing it all. The lesson is to thank God for what you have and to fear God, not circumstances. I love that thought. Fear and respect God for who He is and what he has done, it is foolish to fear circumstances and what might happen. God is in control.

But anyways church was great and that Sunday night was a little bit different than usual. Usually they told us that we are going to have our own little Sunday night service in English which we will run ourselves, so hopefully I can help out a lot with the music part. But again I love it here… its getting better everyday. I am still a little eager because I am just so ready to start the Spanish classes and we still have about a week. But all is well. I am meeting a lot of new students down here because I have gotten to the point where I almost love putting myself out there and just speaking, and a few students can speak a little English. Few more things: I met a guy from the DR with the same last name as me—weird—and I met some people from France who are learning Spanish and English and are better than me at both, well not English. I am going to the town Monte tonight to eat at mama Rosa’s—supposedly a legendary pizza place that everyone on campus lives for ha. This kid from PA that is enrolled in the actual BI (Bible Institute) down here is taken us. He is 18 and spent 2 months in Mexico and became fluent in Spanish down there, pretty awesome guy; and he and some other American students, some who went through the PBB program and finishing up in November, have been a tremendous help. But yeah thinks for reading and ill let you know how my night in the town went… if I return…. BUM Bum bummm (HA jk)

Oh and keep reading because I have an awesome story about a student who went here long ago and his testimony coming up…

“As you know, we consider blessed those who have persevered…” James 5:11

Bitter Sweet

How can something that would seem so ridiculous to most be such a blessing to others. Bittersweet has been a popular word for my friends and I over the last few months. But I want to tell you how bittersweet still continues even after I have left home—which used to be the bitter part of this time.

So enough about plane rides and the food. Let me tell you a little about this place. WOL in a nutshell: We arrived and had a chance to get situated in our dorms. This little detail got jumbled up in the communication process but I was placed in a room with the Hispanic students who are enrolled in the actual Bible Institute down here. My room boss can speak a little English, but other than that it’s all Spanish. The cafeteria food is not like the 12 course lunch we had the first day—I am actually not sure what it is. I am planning on just eating without asking questions; but it really isn’t that bad and it is supposedly really good for you (bunch of vegetables and a meaty mystery type thingy). It is freezing and rainy all the time. Then once you get into the classroom it gets even colder. When it is not raining it is foggy and muddy, which adds a very gloomy effect to the campus.

BUT I LOVE THIS PLACE. I don’t even know where to start. It was easy talking about the stuff above simply because its not that big of a deal. I titled this Bitter Sweet, but not because it’s both to me. I see no bitterness here. This is where I am supposed to be, this is where God wants me to be. There is no cell phone, no distractions, just a great environment and an even better group of people. THE SHOWERS ARE HOT. The bathrooms are a little disgusting but THE SHOWERS ARE HOT. The coffee is good.. yes I just said that. It is sweet and not bitter like back home. Waking up at 6 15 every day urged me to the point of needing caffeine. I love the PBB group (my group). I can already tell that it’s going to be difficult saying goodbye in the end. We have only had a bunch of orientation classes to so far explaining everything to us—actual Spanish classes don’t start till next Friday. But the schedule is definitely doable. We have Mondays off, kinda, and plenty of breaks between classes. We had to pick a sport and a job to participate in. I chose basketball and I want to work on the farm—hard work but I heard we get to kill the cows. The argentine way of life is definitely friendlier and lenient/flexible. Its like rules about 3 second hugging and third party chaperones watching mixed groups don’t need to exist because a kiss or a hug is just saying “hey! I missed you, how have you been?” I am not saying this campus is perfect, there are rules placed to keep the standard of conduct at a certain level but its not like back home. I will explain all of this in detail later—I have too many thoughts coming to my mind at once to talk about each one in a deep, well-written essay type blog thing.

And God is here! Joe Jordan, the director of Word Of Life and the founder of WOL Argentina has been coming to speak to the PBB students (again, the 44 of us that are here). He is like our Bible teacher for the next few days. It is awesome. I am sitting in the classroom hearing him speaking and everyone is listening and taking notes not because we have to, or to merely prepare for an upcoming exam or test, because there will not be one. There is only life. He is there teaching us simply because we want to listen and learn. I have time to study Gods Word not just for a daily quiet time but a morning, nightly, mid day, just whenever quiet time. It is so amazing, nothing else taking my time but God. There is so much more that has already happened but this is already getting long so ill stop here. Again, this might seemed rushed and not very deep but I am not able to write down all of my thoughts in a well thought out post because there are so many thoughts and things I want to write down. And I had to do this in like ten minutes I have class more Bible time with JJ(you remember, the founder guy), who has been a missionary to Argentina, starting soon. But I can assure you that there is no bittersweet here.. Just sweet!! God Bless YOU..

The Arrival

Ok so I got to the airport and found a couple of people that were students. I was among the first people that arrived so we had to wait like 2 hours for the rest to come. But we all got in a circle.. in the Argentina airport.. and just like got to know each other. We played a few name games.. cliché but effective, and just kinda hung out for a while. We got students from all over the US, and a few from Canada.

I like the group so far. But they took us on a bus to this restaurant to welcome us to the school. We arrived there, all forty of us (mas o menos) and they began to serve. I heard that the meat down here was great so I was looking forward to this meal. They brought out baskets of rolls and 2 liter glass soda bottles. The rolls were good but I wanted to save room for the meat, which turned out to be a good decision. They brought out these two huge plates of ham, some other salty type of meat, and some other type of round and colorful meat—shows how well I know my meats. And it was delicious. We stuffed the ham in our rolls and ate. I was very hungry from all the traveling but I felt obligated to stay modest and avoided eating too much as this was still a first impression moment in front of people I was going to be spending a lot of time with. However I couldn’t help but to fill my stomach to the brim, enjoying all I could eat. I was satisfied, as was everyone else, and ready to go to the campus. Man was i stuffed. That was a very, very amazingly great first meal. But after the servers took the plates, still holding enough food to fill several large families, we did not leave. I figured a meeting or something still needed to take place. But then the servers came out of the kitchen once more, but instead of holding the checks they were carrying the actual meal—the large plates of meats, the food that was causing me to loosen my pants—was merely the appetizer. These new plates were accompanied by a large steak and sausage, juicing out its argentine special cooking and spices. I miraculously felt my hunger arising once again as I managed to find room to place this new steak, that had a taste slightly different then that back home, in my slightly larger body… larger in a bad way.. well it depends on how you look at it.

but we enjoyed it.. because once we entered the campus and became students, just like on the plane when i awoke from that dream, reality hit...

The Voyage

If you have ever flown on an overnight flight you will know what I am talking about. I actually enjoyed it. It wasn’t exactly something that I could do all the time, but unlike most I did not dread it. The experience was different, a step above the little four or five hour flight. Its like you moved in temporarily to the plain, claiming your seat as your personal space. Sleeping was definitely a challenge, however, as I did spend quite an effort falling asleep. I can’t really remember how long I slept, if I did at all; but I know I did because the flight did not seem like it was ten hours long. And I dreamed. I dreamed about back home, a logical thing to dream about considering it was on my mind. But I had a movie or two, enjoyed dinner, I had pasta, and began the attempt to sleep. It was a strange night, probably one of the strangest I have had in a while. You know that split second right after you awake from a dream where you sometimes convince yourself that you have yet to wake—like that dream was actually reality, but then you look around and realize that it was in fact not. Well when I awoke at one point, as I did wake up many times, I experienced that moment. I forgot what I was doing and where I was. Then when reality hit me and reminded me of my situation, I was not in the comfort of my home, but rather surrounded by strange people all experiencing the same moment; and on top of that I was thousands of miles in the air. When thought about normally, other then it being kind of cool because not everyone gets a chance to do it, an overnight plane ride is nothing special. But when all of the thoughts—being so high in the air, confined in a tiny seat that seems to thwart any position or hope that you would look to for comfort, the unfamiliar faces sleeping near you with the occasional shuffle of bodies attempting to find that optimum position, being up in the air flying at two in the morning having five hours of flight time left but still only being halfway through, etc.—rush back all at once, its almost overwhelming; but only for a split second (I am not complaining, I enjoyed the flight and its factors.. or whatever. You know what I mean).

I finally fell asleep, in a way, when breakfast was brought around in the morning. Again, another weird feeling. I thought about everyone back home who went to sleep the night before when I was in the air and then woke up the next morning to go to school or work, and I was still chilling in the air. Its like breakfast was a whole night away, but then again it was. But to think about that being the case on the plane was a strange thought. Oh and I found someone else that was going to WOL. He is from Charlotte and was on my flight to ATL and Argentina; and he is 33, which actually worried me a bit because I didn’t want to be the only young person there (Ha just kidding.. just in case he reads this). And the health form I had to fill out was confusing. It asked for the date like 12 times and by the time I started the form it was sept. 2^nd but when I finished it was the 3^rd.. so what do I put!? But it was difficult and confusing.. so I left like half of it blank and the argentine customs lady yelled at me in Spanish but I told her to get over it and she let me through…