Paul's Passing Thoughts

“Comfort came when I realized my thinking about the trip was wrong.”

In just four days, my son-in-law (David), daughter, and granddaughter will board a plane for Kenya. They will be there for six weeks ministering to a network of churches organized by their Puerto Rico ministry. They will be accompanied by my present pastor, Andy Powell.

Of course, I’m concerned. In countries like Kenya, things can change fast. You can go to bed at night, and wakeup the next morning without a way out of the country and in a bad situation.

I’m for putting it all on the line for the Lord, but admittedly, I’m strong on the endeavor being as orthodox as possible. And though I love my son-in-law dearly, we have some significant theological differences. The thought of losing any of them is hard enough, but my misery would be greatly multiplied if I thought bad theology was part of the mix.

David and I have no differences in regard to the gospel, our disagreements concern church polity and some sanctification issues. I’m not going to lie; I would be delighted to see them going over there to train pastors with the full-blown Institute of Nouthetic Studies counseling program. I am also very big on going, wherever we go, with the authority of the word, and culture be damned.

So, denial gave way to reality, and reality gave way to distress. One thing I have learned from getting Jay Adams stuff  thrown in my life-path, a time of distress means it’s time to take a life inventory—a time of evaluation. As Christians, we don’t let emotions run the show.

Face it, they’re going. Now what? Decision time. What’s my response? Does my response matter? How should I think about this? Where should I start? Well, maybe with the big picture and not just his gankey theology. The big picture? Where should I start? With the Kenya pictures from the last trip? Are they conspiratorial? Probably, but I have nothing else.

I haven’t seen those pictures for two or three years, but they are still burned into my mind. They tell a story. It’s a story of one of the poorest and destitute regions in the world. The epicenter of their ministry is a region east of Nairobi, which is one of the heaviest populated cities in the world. And a large segment of that population are homeless children orphaned by political riots and the Aids epidemic. One of the pastors in  David’s  network goes into Nairobi to search for orphans:

Come here little one, I would like to speak with you. Do you have a mother and father? Do you have a place to live? Where?

If the answers are all negative, other than the one about the cardboard box, the pastor will take the child and place him/her with a family that is part of the network, who usually live hand to mouth.

The last time David and my daughter (Heather) went to Kenya, they took bags full of over-the-counter medications/ Band-Aids , etc. I will never forget the pictures of the long line of children ending with my doctor-like son-in-law administering first aid to minor injuries and ailments that these people usually have to live with. This was amazing to me.

And then there is the hunger for the word. During the last trip, pastors walked for miles to get to the conferences—not having the resources to return home. Heather and David also have a Bible distribution program there as well, and I do believe that is powerful within itself. The network meets in structures that are wood frameworks with cardboard nailed to them. The more elaborate structures employ scrap sheet metal.

Much more could be said, but in remembering those pictures, I remembered something else: It’s a David ministry. You see, missionaries are not lining up to minister in that region because there is no way to plant self-sustaining churches there. Resources to start a work in that area are extremely limited. And that’s David, always filling the gap where others will not, whether here in the states, in Puerto Rico, or half way around the world.

That’s the big picture. The rest is what it is. Bigger theological packages often deliver a lot less hope, if any at all. Comfort came when I realized my thinking about the trip was wrong. I ask all who stop by PPT to remember David, Heather, and Hannah in your prayers. And by the way, donations for their trip can be sent to PO box 583, Xenia, Ohio 45385. If the Lord leads in that way, be sure to designate the purpose.

paul