Good afternoon senhoras e senhores,
I found myself really excited this morning as I left my apartment for Monte Horeb, a Christian School and church where I work with youth and kids two days a week. The director asked me to prepare a sermon for Father's Day which is celebrated on June 23rd here in Nicaragua. I arrived at 9 am to preach what I had put together, but no one was there. So I decided to hit the streets to find someone who would hear me.
Earlier this week I had stopped by Rubel's house to invite him to the service today. Rubel is a young man who robbed me over a year ago along with one of his friends. Since then, it has been one of my priorities to see him saved. That day I met two of his friends and fellow gang members. One of them had green eyes and the other was shirtless, showing off a tattoo of a monk that he claimed he got while under the influence. Returning to this morning, I went to talk to them to invite them to church. They said they couldn't come because the rival gang would come after them. I was saddened, but I went back to the church to give the sermon.
When I got there, the pastor had already begun to preach. He went on for two hours about Saul, and the value of obedience. I was a little irked and frustrated because I had prepared to preach, but it looked like wouldn't get to. I wondered to myself, "How can I obey God and preach if someone else took my spot?"
Then it hit me. I wasn't supposed to give that lesson to them. It came from inside as I prayed,"If they won't come to church, bring the church to them." So I waited until the end of the service, after which I went to a former martial arts student of mine and asked him how brave he felt he was. He answered in English, "Very much so." I told him to leave his wallet, house key, and phone at home because we were going to preach to the gang. He said, "Good idea." From there we walked to the edge of the barrio where the tin shacks meet the landfill on the dirt road that leads to the market.
There were about twenty of the gang members there. I stopped by Rubel's house first to see if he would come. His mom told me that he had already left. He wasn't with the gang either. So my cohort and I went up to the gang. They were all in a circle mostly shirtless, and a few wearing bandanas. One had a one-liter beer bottle he was drinking out of. Another was smoking a joint. One had gauze taped over his face to cover where he had been sliced from cheek to chin. Another had his left hand and forearm bandaged up. This was one of the gangs that stopped the youth service I ran two months ago. I looked at them and thought, "Okay God. I'm here please watch over us as we do this."
I greeted them and asked them if we could share a brief word from the Bible with them. They all stopped talking. I repeated the question. The guy in the middle said, "Okay." So I opened as if I would have with the others. I talked about Father's Day and its importance. I told them that I wanted to talk about bears, promises, dads, and heaven. I like to open my sermons like this with seemingly unrelated talking points to keep there interest. I want them to ask themselves how they will be connected, that way they are more likely to pay attention.
I started with bear hugs. My dad used to give me huge hugs. They made me feel secure. That is part of a father's job is to provide security for his children. But not all children get that security. I asked how many of them grew up without a father. Most hands went up. The guy in the middle raised both of his hands. I then told them the story of another former student who didn't sleep at night because he always heard his dad beating his mom. They all went silent. One started to talk and was quickly hushed by the others. At this time, I watched Rubel walk up and join the circle. I went to Ephesians 6, where Paul reittirates the commandment to honor your father and mother, and in doing so you will live long on the earth. It was the first commandment with a promise.
I then asked them, "How do you honor a father who mistreats or abuses you, or who was never there?" I looked at a bunch of puzzled faces. "You pray for them. They may have big problems, but if you don't leave that in God's hands, you risk becoming a victim to the same feelings that cause their awful behavior. Also remember that it is because of them that you are even alive, so there is reason to honor them for that." I told them that some day each one of them would be a father, and no one wants to repeat the mistakes of their own parents. Change begins with acknowledgement and forgiveness. If they were going to be good dads they needed to acknowledge their mistakes and forgive those who wronged them. Wounded hearts look to wound others.
Afterwards I spoke about the promise of long life, the importance of obedience and how it leads to eternal life in heaven. They all told me their names or their nicknames at least( "the Gargoyle", "the Resident of 13th St."), we shook hands, and we all agreed to meet again next week. I introduced my old student, and asked him if he wanted to share a word or a story. He declined.
We left and as we walked back to the church, he said he felt like his testimony was too different from what the others had lived. He grew up in church. They grew up in the street. There is something important in this. The power of a testimony isn't only that it can connect people who have been through similar experiences, but rather it can also inspire someone to strive to live a different life. I see a leader in him and hope in the gang. Please pray for them.
"Where two or three of you are gathered together, there am I in the midst of you." - Matthew 18:20
Modimo ao gaugele e Modimo wa go rata.
Seth
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Friday, June 15, 2012
Brainchild
Guten Tag good friends,
One of my favorite Youtube channels is for the TED talks. For those who do not know, TED stands for technology, education, and design, and it gives an organized platform for the world's leading scientists, scholars, and humanitarians to converge and discuss their ideas with the goal of improving the world we live in. Thousands of influential leaders and academics from all over the world come together for these events, and many fascinating ideas and discoveries are shared and proposed at this forum. While watching some of these videos, I came across a link to a video on Albert Einstein.
His name is essentially synonimous with the word genius, and his intellect will likely be revered for many generations. The video was narrated by British biologist and atheist Richard Dawkins. Dawkins was attempting to prove that Einstein's belief in God was distantly removed from the Christian concept of the personal God. Likewise, I saw links to other videos on Stephen Hawkings' beliefs on God. I have heard people talk about Darwin renouncing his theory of evolution on his deathbed. People argue about whether or not Thomas Jefferson was a theist or an unbeliever. There is seemingly a battle between the religious and scientific communities to claim history's intellectuals to validate their own points of view.
On the converse, people try to argue over the beliefs of the worst dictators, Hitler and Stalin, in an attempt to gain moral superiority. They are people whose actions only reflect their own desires. The thought came to me as I reflected on these things, "Does a single person's belief or disbelief in God, no matter how tremendous his or her impact on humanity, really prove or disprove the existence of God?"
I don't believe it does. We often look to these people as an architype for our own thoughts because of the power of their ideas and discoveries and how much they supercede our own thoughts and intellects. It is natural. Having faith in anything you cannot outright prove with your own senses is very difficult, and it makes it easier to say, "Well Einstein was so brilliant, and he believed it. So it must be true." However, our faith does not come from Einstein or any other great mind produced by the annals of history, no matter how brilliant. It comes from God whose wisdom is beyond all men. If you are struggling with your faith because perhaps someone has tried to diminish it as uneducated ignorance, or an obsolete mode of thought, remember that scientific trends and great philosophies change with the centuries, but God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He cannot be discredited by any human being.
"Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has God not made foolish the wisdom of the world?" 1 Corinthians 1:20
Gott segne dich,
Seth
One of my favorite Youtube channels is for the TED talks. For those who do not know, TED stands for technology, education, and design, and it gives an organized platform for the world's leading scientists, scholars, and humanitarians to converge and discuss their ideas with the goal of improving the world we live in. Thousands of influential leaders and academics from all over the world come together for these events, and many fascinating ideas and discoveries are shared and proposed at this forum. While watching some of these videos, I came across a link to a video on Albert Einstein.
His name is essentially synonimous with the word genius, and his intellect will likely be revered for many generations. The video was narrated by British biologist and atheist Richard Dawkins. Dawkins was attempting to prove that Einstein's belief in God was distantly removed from the Christian concept of the personal God. Likewise, I saw links to other videos on Stephen Hawkings' beliefs on God. I have heard people talk about Darwin renouncing his theory of evolution on his deathbed. People argue about whether or not Thomas Jefferson was a theist or an unbeliever. There is seemingly a battle between the religious and scientific communities to claim history's intellectuals to validate their own points of view.
On the converse, people try to argue over the beliefs of the worst dictators, Hitler and Stalin, in an attempt to gain moral superiority. They are people whose actions only reflect their own desires. The thought came to me as I reflected on these things, "Does a single person's belief or disbelief in God, no matter how tremendous his or her impact on humanity, really prove or disprove the existence of God?"
I don't believe it does. We often look to these people as an architype for our own thoughts because of the power of their ideas and discoveries and how much they supercede our own thoughts and intellects. It is natural. Having faith in anything you cannot outright prove with your own senses is very difficult, and it makes it easier to say, "Well Einstein was so brilliant, and he believed it. So it must be true." However, our faith does not come from Einstein or any other great mind produced by the annals of history, no matter how brilliant. It comes from God whose wisdom is beyond all men. If you are struggling with your faith because perhaps someone has tried to diminish it as uneducated ignorance, or an obsolete mode of thought, remember that scientific trends and great philosophies change with the centuries, but God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. He cannot be discredited by any human being.
"Where is the wise man? Where is the scholar? Where is the philosopher of this age? Has God not made foolish the wisdom of the world?" 1 Corinthians 1:20
Gott segne dich,
Seth
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
Nanakorobi yaoki
Good afternoon os meus amigos,
Between learning traditional Japanese Jiu Jitsu, and yes, karate(I have historically preferred Tae Kwon Do, but I have studied some karate and I am studying to get my black belt in it as well.), I am bombarded with Japanese terms on a pretty regularly. Kuzushi, kamai, mushin, zanshin, jijigatame, jigoku, kaizen(which is tattoed on my left shoulder), etc. I also have to write papers on three of these terms as I learned this morning. A friend of mine through martial arts shared a picture on Facebook with a Japanese proverb I had heard before, but it was good to read again. It is nanakorobi yaoki, meaning "Fall down seven times, stand up eight."
There are two great ways of testing your character: how do you react in times of great stress and how do you react when you fail in those times? Do you hide away from the world in shame? Do you seek help to strengthen yourself? Most importantly, do you stand up and try again? Do you press forward resiliantly? When I was eleven years old, I tried out for the school track team. I didn't make it, but I saw something that taught me a valuable lesson. I wanted to be a distance runner. There were over twenty of us running a mile. Half way through, another kid fell forward right on his face. We all laughed at him. He stood up immediately and sprinted past all of us. Did any of us laughing make the team? Well, he did.
In the Bible, Peter faced a test of loyalty at Jesus' crucifiction. He was asked if he knew Jesus. He could have been the honorable follower to go down with his leader, but he chose to lie to save his life. In fact he lied three times. He was called Peter, meaning "the Rock", something that is immovable and holds strong. Yet he gave into to his weakness. Ultimately he was willing to lose his life to preach the Gospel, sharing the fate of his Savior, as Peter was crucified too. We all fall short of the glory of God, but the question is will we get up after we fall flat on our face, even as everyone laughs at us for it, to sprint on to victory? Keep your eyes on the prize, and remember that your Judge has the grace and mercy to forgive you so you can keep running. Also don't forget to obey the rules when you stand back up!
God bless you,
Seth
Between learning traditional Japanese Jiu Jitsu, and yes, karate(I have historically preferred Tae Kwon Do, but I have studied some karate and I am studying to get my black belt in it as well.), I am bombarded with Japanese terms on a pretty regularly. Kuzushi, kamai, mushin, zanshin, jijigatame, jigoku, kaizen(which is tattoed on my left shoulder), etc. I also have to write papers on three of these terms as I learned this morning. A friend of mine through martial arts shared a picture on Facebook with a Japanese proverb I had heard before, but it was good to read again. It is nanakorobi yaoki, meaning "Fall down seven times, stand up eight."
There are two great ways of testing your character: how do you react in times of great stress and how do you react when you fail in those times? Do you hide away from the world in shame? Do you seek help to strengthen yourself? Most importantly, do you stand up and try again? Do you press forward resiliantly? When I was eleven years old, I tried out for the school track team. I didn't make it, but I saw something that taught me a valuable lesson. I wanted to be a distance runner. There were over twenty of us running a mile. Half way through, another kid fell forward right on his face. We all laughed at him. He stood up immediately and sprinted past all of us. Did any of us laughing make the team? Well, he did.
In the Bible, Peter faced a test of loyalty at Jesus' crucifiction. He was asked if he knew Jesus. He could have been the honorable follower to go down with his leader, but he chose to lie to save his life. In fact he lied three times. He was called Peter, meaning "the Rock", something that is immovable and holds strong. Yet he gave into to his weakness. Ultimately he was willing to lose his life to preach the Gospel, sharing the fate of his Savior, as Peter was crucified too. We all fall short of the glory of God, but the question is will we get up after we fall flat on our face, even as everyone laughs at us for it, to sprint on to victory? Keep your eyes on the prize, and remember that your Judge has the grace and mercy to forgive you so you can keep running. Also don't forget to obey the rules when you stand back up!
God bless you,
Seth
Monday, June 11, 2012
Casting Out the Eye of the Beholder
Buon giorno my amichi,
I was confronted with an issue recently, one that I know affects all men. One of our common struggles: lust. This can easily become a sore subject very quickly, but it is one that can cause a lot of diverse problems. The word in Spanish is "deseo" which can also be translated as "desire". This is precisely the appropriate term to describe lust. Many times we are told that sex is a need, but this is not true. Yes, there is the instinctual desire to reproduce, but it is still a desire and unnecessary to continue your personal existence. There are hormones which drive these desires as well, but that does not put it out of our control. The primary motive psychologically for sex for a man is validation. It satisfies us in our identities and makes us feel worthy and respected. Yet even here, it is not the only means by which we feel validated. True validation I believe comes from honor within one's beliefs, the integrity of the spirit. I believe that this validation is rooted in God.
As a single man this can be a real struggle. From what I hear from others, presented as a problem or as a simple comment in passing, it is also a struggle for those who are in a committed relationship. I am not just talking about infedelity and porn addictions because those are products of the initial problem. The following verse has been on my heart for awhile, and sometimes it really is a fight to obey it. In Matthew 5:28 Jesus says, "But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart." Napoleon Hill wrote that your thoughts become your actions and ultimately your reality. I obviously do not say these things as if I were immune to it. I am definitely not a virgen, and I have struggled with porn in the past. Yet those things only focused me further on the desire for validation which I was not getting from them. I only got depression, and I have learned valuable lessons from them.
In extreme cases, lust can have enormous impacts on those who are victimized by it. I know many people who are victims of rape, molestation, countless children abandoned by their fathers, even the oldest profession, prostitution, owes its title to the power of this denigrating sin. Yet it is unnecessary to go to extreme cases to demonstrate the consequences of lustful behavior. Returning to the source of the desire, we find the longing for validation. When we seek validation in empty actions, we are filled with hollow feelings.
Someday I will get married. I do not want to ruin that relationship with the products of my thoughts like mistrust, resentment, jealousy, or infidelity. I want to enjoy solely between her and I, giving her everything I am, my mind included. Two of my closest friends have reminded me of this in the last few months. One of whom told me about how important it is in a marriage to strengthen your resolve, telling me about how his wife went through cancer treatments with anti-hormone pills. He explained that seeing your mate for their friendship will sometimes be your only option, so you have to learn to be strong early. I am striving to keep my mind and heart pure now. If you are single like me, or in a relationship or a marriage struggling with this, I urge you to look to the Lord for strength. Find support in others, and pray for renewal in your mind. Please pray for me as well as I work on this in myself as well.
Philipians 4:8 "Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything is worthy of praise, think about such things."
Philipians 4:13 "I can do everything in Christ who gives me strength."
Galatians 5:16 "But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh."
Matthew 5:29 "If your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to lose an eye than for your whole body to be cast into hell."
Che Dio ti benediche,
Seth
I was confronted with an issue recently, one that I know affects all men. One of our common struggles: lust. This can easily become a sore subject very quickly, but it is one that can cause a lot of diverse problems. The word in Spanish is "deseo" which can also be translated as "desire". This is precisely the appropriate term to describe lust. Many times we are told that sex is a need, but this is not true. Yes, there is the instinctual desire to reproduce, but it is still a desire and unnecessary to continue your personal existence. There are hormones which drive these desires as well, but that does not put it out of our control. The primary motive psychologically for sex for a man is validation. It satisfies us in our identities and makes us feel worthy and respected. Yet even here, it is not the only means by which we feel validated. True validation I believe comes from honor within one's beliefs, the integrity of the spirit. I believe that this validation is rooted in God.
As a single man this can be a real struggle. From what I hear from others, presented as a problem or as a simple comment in passing, it is also a struggle for those who are in a committed relationship. I am not just talking about infedelity and porn addictions because those are products of the initial problem. The following verse has been on my heart for awhile, and sometimes it really is a fight to obey it. In Matthew 5:28 Jesus says, "But I say to you that whoever looks at a woman with lustful intent has already committed adultery with her in his heart." Napoleon Hill wrote that your thoughts become your actions and ultimately your reality. I obviously do not say these things as if I were immune to it. I am definitely not a virgen, and I have struggled with porn in the past. Yet those things only focused me further on the desire for validation which I was not getting from them. I only got depression, and I have learned valuable lessons from them.
In extreme cases, lust can have enormous impacts on those who are victimized by it. I know many people who are victims of rape, molestation, countless children abandoned by their fathers, even the oldest profession, prostitution, owes its title to the power of this denigrating sin. Yet it is unnecessary to go to extreme cases to demonstrate the consequences of lustful behavior. Returning to the source of the desire, we find the longing for validation. When we seek validation in empty actions, we are filled with hollow feelings.
Someday I will get married. I do not want to ruin that relationship with the products of my thoughts like mistrust, resentment, jealousy, or infidelity. I want to enjoy solely between her and I, giving her everything I am, my mind included. Two of my closest friends have reminded me of this in the last few months. One of whom told me about how important it is in a marriage to strengthen your resolve, telling me about how his wife went through cancer treatments with anti-hormone pills. He explained that seeing your mate for their friendship will sometimes be your only option, so you have to learn to be strong early. I am striving to keep my mind and heart pure now. If you are single like me, or in a relationship or a marriage struggling with this, I urge you to look to the Lord for strength. Find support in others, and pray for renewal in your mind. Please pray for me as well as I work on this in myself as well.
Philipians 4:8 "Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything is worthy of praise, think about such things."
Philipians 4:13 "I can do everything in Christ who gives me strength."
Galatians 5:16 "But I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh."
Matthew 5:29 "If your right eye causes you to sin, pluck it out. It is better for you to lose an eye than for your whole body to be cast into hell."
Che Dio ti benediche,
Seth
Thursday, June 7, 2012
A Guatemalan Tale part 2
Hola again good friends,
To begin where I left off, I was constipated for approximately a week and off to see the Mayan ruins at Tikal. It was a ten hour bus ride from 8 pm to 6 am. The woman sitting next to me was more than portly, and she fell asleep, smashing me into the window. The bus driver raced the other vehicles down the narrow roads, which kept me awake for fear that we would crash. I did not sleep. I tagged along with some med students from Stanford University who liked me because I out-argued a student from Berkley about linguistics. They were also interested in the type of parasite I had contracted. We found a hotel for the day. They were going to stay til Sunday, I was going to leave that night. We all went to get tickets for the tour, but I felt a gut-wrenching pain again. I was overloaded. They went while I stayed back, laying in bed. I was tired, but I still couldn't sleep because of the pain. When they all got back later that afternoon, I was enticed by the pictures they showed me. I had to go.
They switched their tickets to leave that night, and I switched mine to leave the next day. In the process I made friends with the travel agent. He had a phrase similar to what my host mother told the week earlier when I had the parasites. "No existen tiempos malos, sólo difíciles."(There's no such thing as a bad time, just a difficult one.). I booked a sunrise tour, spending the most of my money on the tour, a fish, and a licuado. To do the sunrise tour, you had to first give your hotel. I did not have one. It was National Soldier's Day, and every hotel was booked. We went to nine places before finally returning to the hotel where I stayed earlier. I was happy. They had a room. My thought process was, "I already paid 35 quetzales for half a day. I should just have to pay 35 more." The gentleman behind the desk smiled at me. "One hundred quetzales," he said.
I had exactly one hundred quetzales. My friends went back to Antigua. I was there by myself, unable to sleep knowing that the bus would come at 3:30 am. I went out to the street to wait. The bus arrived at 4:30 or so. I was nervous out there in the middle of the night. It was a relief to be on the bus and on my way. I remember the bus driver put on Jennifer Lopez music, and then the bus broke down. I couldn't stop laughing.
It was almost 5:30 and we were racing to beat dawn. We scaled the tallest temple to watch the sun peak over through the misty canopy of the Petén rain forest. The whole jungle awoke simultaneously from silence to a sinfonía selvática with a chorus of 382 species of birds and howler monkeys erupting through the air. I was revitalized after eight days of constipation and two days without sleep. I hiked through the jungle and climbed the temples like I was Indiana Jones. Just no boulders. After several hours of activity, it was time to back to Flores, where the bus station was. Then I found that I had no bus ticket and no money to buy a new one.
I went back to the travel agent, and explained the situation to him. He was happy to help. He spent one hour calling people up until he found me a bus ticket. Free of charge. You never know how a friendly conversation with a stranger can come back to help you. I then had to walk a few kilometers to the bus station. In the process, my constipation was finally resolved. It zapped me though. I got to the bus station to learn that it would not open for several more hours, which left me hanging out in the street, looking like a shaggy, homeless gringo.
A man approached me. I thought he was going to rob me. He asked me what I was doing. I explained to him that I came to see the ruins, why I was in Guatemala, about my two adopted brothers from Guatemala, and he gave me his hand and picked me up. We went over to a circle of bus and taxi drivers where we joked around in Spanish. The man who approached me asked me if I was tired. I told him emphatically, "Yes."
He opened the bus stations doors to let me in to sleep. I was safe and resting. It was a crazy adventure, but it reinforced what my host mother Carla Rosales taught me in the midst of a serious problem: no existen tiempos malos, sólo difíciles. God is in control of everything. Trust in Him in your time of crisis, and He will guide you to safety.
Que Dios te bendiga,
Seth
To begin where I left off, I was constipated for approximately a week and off to see the Mayan ruins at Tikal. It was a ten hour bus ride from 8 pm to 6 am. The woman sitting next to me was more than portly, and she fell asleep, smashing me into the window. The bus driver raced the other vehicles down the narrow roads, which kept me awake for fear that we would crash. I did not sleep. I tagged along with some med students from Stanford University who liked me because I out-argued a student from Berkley about linguistics. They were also interested in the type of parasite I had contracted. We found a hotel for the day. They were going to stay til Sunday, I was going to leave that night. We all went to get tickets for the tour, but I felt a gut-wrenching pain again. I was overloaded. They went while I stayed back, laying in bed. I was tired, but I still couldn't sleep because of the pain. When they all got back later that afternoon, I was enticed by the pictures they showed me. I had to go.
They switched their tickets to leave that night, and I switched mine to leave the next day. In the process I made friends with the travel agent. He had a phrase similar to what my host mother told the week earlier when I had the parasites. "No existen tiempos malos, sólo difíciles."(There's no such thing as a bad time, just a difficult one.). I booked a sunrise tour, spending the most of my money on the tour, a fish, and a licuado. To do the sunrise tour, you had to first give your hotel. I did not have one. It was National Soldier's Day, and every hotel was booked. We went to nine places before finally returning to the hotel where I stayed earlier. I was happy. They had a room. My thought process was, "I already paid 35 quetzales for half a day. I should just have to pay 35 more." The gentleman behind the desk smiled at me. "One hundred quetzales," he said.
I had exactly one hundred quetzales. My friends went back to Antigua. I was there by myself, unable to sleep knowing that the bus would come at 3:30 am. I went out to the street to wait. The bus arrived at 4:30 or so. I was nervous out there in the middle of the night. It was a relief to be on the bus and on my way. I remember the bus driver put on Jennifer Lopez music, and then the bus broke down. I couldn't stop laughing.
It was almost 5:30 and we were racing to beat dawn. We scaled the tallest temple to watch the sun peak over through the misty canopy of the Petén rain forest. The whole jungle awoke simultaneously from silence to a sinfonía selvática with a chorus of 382 species of birds and howler monkeys erupting through the air. I was revitalized after eight days of constipation and two days without sleep. I hiked through the jungle and climbed the temples like I was Indiana Jones. Just no boulders. After several hours of activity, it was time to back to Flores, where the bus station was. Then I found that I had no bus ticket and no money to buy a new one.
I went back to the travel agent, and explained the situation to him. He was happy to help. He spent one hour calling people up until he found me a bus ticket. Free of charge. You never know how a friendly conversation with a stranger can come back to help you. I then had to walk a few kilometers to the bus station. In the process, my constipation was finally resolved. It zapped me though. I got to the bus station to learn that it would not open for several more hours, which left me hanging out in the street, looking like a shaggy, homeless gringo.
A man approached me. I thought he was going to rob me. He asked me what I was doing. I explained to him that I came to see the ruins, why I was in Guatemala, about my two adopted brothers from Guatemala, and he gave me his hand and picked me up. We went over to a circle of bus and taxi drivers where we joked around in Spanish. The man who approached me asked me if I was tired. I told him emphatically, "Yes."
He opened the bus stations doors to let me in to sleep. I was safe and resting. It was a crazy adventure, but it reinforced what my host mother Carla Rosales taught me in the midst of a serious problem: no existen tiempos malos, sólo difíciles. God is in control of everything. Trust in Him in your time of crisis, and He will guide you to safety.
Que Dios te bendiga,
Seth
A Guatemalan Tale part 1
Salutations friends and strangers,
I was in the supermarket today, and I heard a salsa song that took me back to dance classes in Antigua, Guatemala which began five years ago this last Tuesday. I was a long-haired hippie then. I worked in a restaurant in the U.S. I dreamt of being a writer and an improv comic. I thought I was funny. It was my first journey abroad by myself, and I felt like I was in paradise. The other students were from all over the world, the city was beautiful, the classes were individualized and held in a garden, my host family was kind as could be. The only problem was that they lived next to someone who sold chicken, so periodically I would hear poultry executions. I shared a house with the family, a Brazilian, a Swede, an Irishman, a Dutch girl, another American, and there was a British girl who stopped by for dinner each night. Others came and went, but it was a great experience. It was also in Guatemala where I had what is arguably my first great travel story.
As a hippie, I always liked to hang out at the expatriate folk café, Café Kafka. It was my favorite place along with the boot-leg theatre at Café 2000 and the relaxing Café Sky shown to me by my Brazilian friend. Café Kafka was known for its ribs. It was also known for acoustic hipster songs about how Marlin Brando and T.V. ruined the U.S, I was hungry for some ribs though, and I decided to try them one night. I was unaware that Café Kafka unlugged its refrigerators from time to time to save on electricity.
Later that night, I felt like someone stabbed me in the stomach. My host family moved houses and relocated me to the new house to stay the weekend by myself. I was in pain, it was raining hard, and I could not figure out how to get the the door open. After three trips back and forth for repeated explanations of the mechanics of the door, I finally got it open. I found the bathroom, and rushed in. There was no toilet seat, so I had to prop myself up with my arms. This was how I spent my weekend. Three days later, I was exhausted and horribly dehydrated. My host family's son led me by the hand to the hospital. I was disoriented and walking like Ray Charles. I was having a lot of trouble understanding the doctor's diagnosis, so he was kind enough to draw me a picture. I had intestinal paracites. I decided to take a page from the Israelites and avoid pork. He gave me two pills to stop me up and a liter of salt water to rehydrate me. It worked. Really well. I was constipated for the next eight days, which was painful, but I was on a mission. I was determined to see the Mayan ruins at Tikal. So I booked my bus ride, and I was off.
I have to drop off my laundry, but I will finish the second part of this when I get back.
Hasta pronto y que Dios te bendiga,
Seth
I was in the supermarket today, and I heard a salsa song that took me back to dance classes in Antigua, Guatemala which began five years ago this last Tuesday. I was a long-haired hippie then. I worked in a restaurant in the U.S. I dreamt of being a writer and an improv comic. I thought I was funny. It was my first journey abroad by myself, and I felt like I was in paradise. The other students were from all over the world, the city was beautiful, the classes were individualized and held in a garden, my host family was kind as could be. The only problem was that they lived next to someone who sold chicken, so periodically I would hear poultry executions. I shared a house with the family, a Brazilian, a Swede, an Irishman, a Dutch girl, another American, and there was a British girl who stopped by for dinner each night. Others came and went, but it was a great experience. It was also in Guatemala where I had what is arguably my first great travel story.
As a hippie, I always liked to hang out at the expatriate folk café, Café Kafka. It was my favorite place along with the boot-leg theatre at Café 2000 and the relaxing Café Sky shown to me by my Brazilian friend. Café Kafka was known for its ribs. It was also known for acoustic hipster songs about how Marlin Brando and T.V. ruined the U.S, I was hungry for some ribs though, and I decided to try them one night. I was unaware that Café Kafka unlugged its refrigerators from time to time to save on electricity.
Later that night, I felt like someone stabbed me in the stomach. My host family moved houses and relocated me to the new house to stay the weekend by myself. I was in pain, it was raining hard, and I could not figure out how to get the the door open. After three trips back and forth for repeated explanations of the mechanics of the door, I finally got it open. I found the bathroom, and rushed in. There was no toilet seat, so I had to prop myself up with my arms. This was how I spent my weekend. Three days later, I was exhausted and horribly dehydrated. My host family's son led me by the hand to the hospital. I was disoriented and walking like Ray Charles. I was having a lot of trouble understanding the doctor's diagnosis, so he was kind enough to draw me a picture. I had intestinal paracites. I decided to take a page from the Israelites and avoid pork. He gave me two pills to stop me up and a liter of salt water to rehydrate me. It worked. Really well. I was constipated for the next eight days, which was painful, but I was on a mission. I was determined to see the Mayan ruins at Tikal. So I booked my bus ride, and I was off.
I have to drop off my laundry, but I will finish the second part of this when I get back.
Hasta pronto y que Dios te bendiga,
Seth
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
Firestone Odyssee
Good evening mes amis et inconnus,
There is a proverb in the Spanish language that says, "Preguntando, se llega a Roma." or "Asking, you get to Rome." This expression is used for people who are in doubt about a situation they are confronted with. For the last week, I have tried repeatedly to find tires for my truck. I have had three blow outs. Not flats, but my tires have exploded. This has demonstrated a lesson in being a foreigner learning the ropes in another country, but yet again has shown me how God places people on your path to help you in need.
Five nights ago, I was driving home down the north highway, and I heard and felt my left rear tire explode. I had a spare in back, so I pulled off as far off the road as I could to chane the tire. The shoulder was very narrow, which still left me hanging out in the highway as I changed my tire. My jack collapsed three times, and I was constantly praying as semis, cars, buses, and motorcyclists whizzed by me. I finally got the spare on, but I saw it was low on air.
Here in Managua, they have used tired shops called "vulcanizadoras" where they replace tires and refill them. It was past sunset, and I asked two guys who were standing by watching me nervously work on my wheels where the closest vulcanizadora was. They told me it was about 300 meters straight ahead. I was off. One hundred meters later my spare exploded! I drove ahead until I found the tire shop. When I arrived, half of my tire remained. I was astonished.
The store was about to close, and thank God they helped me. They had one left that was the size I needed. He explained to me that A lot of places will cut the tires and sell them so that you have to return when they go flat or are further damaged. Today I was getting ready to meet one of my coaches to train, and I saw the tire I just bought was flat. It was cut just like the man had said, but it was the tire he sold me. So I was off to find a new one. Three tire shops and ninety minutes later, I finally find a tire. It is undersized, and I later discovered it had a nail in it. I brought it back to my truck.
My landlord saw it, and he asked me what happened. He was indignant. He could not stand that I had been taken advantage of. He hopped on his Suzuki motorcycle and took me to a place the sells new tires. I watched him argue with the people for fifteen minutes about a specific tire that he uses on his trucks. They didn't have it. So he went off to check at the Oriental Market for a good tire. He came back thirty minutes later, telling me to follow him.
I had trouble keeping up with him as he weaved between cars and ran traffic lights, but when he got to far ahead, he stopped on the side of the road to wait for me. When we arrived at the market, he showed me the tire and explained its advantages to me. Then he negotiated the price, lowering it substantially. It is sturdy and new, and the first tire I've seen here with an innertube.
All of this may seem like a lot of stress over something innochuous, but sometimes that is life in a new place. I am thankful that it happened on my day off, so it didn't interfere with my work. The man who helped me the most turned out to be someone who I thought was out to swindle me on numerous occasions. I learned that I need to trust in the people God puts in my life. Returning to the proverb from the beginning, you should try not to ask too many people for directions when you are unsure. Trust in God and His servants. Otherwise you might take some costly detours before arriving at your final destination.
Que Deus te abençoe,
Seth
"I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye."
-Psalm 32:8
There is a proverb in the Spanish language that says, "Preguntando, se llega a Roma." or "Asking, you get to Rome." This expression is used for people who are in doubt about a situation they are confronted with. For the last week, I have tried repeatedly to find tires for my truck. I have had three blow outs. Not flats, but my tires have exploded. This has demonstrated a lesson in being a foreigner learning the ropes in another country, but yet again has shown me how God places people on your path to help you in need.
Five nights ago, I was driving home down the north highway, and I heard and felt my left rear tire explode. I had a spare in back, so I pulled off as far off the road as I could to chane the tire. The shoulder was very narrow, which still left me hanging out in the highway as I changed my tire. My jack collapsed three times, and I was constantly praying as semis, cars, buses, and motorcyclists whizzed by me. I finally got the spare on, but I saw it was low on air.
Here in Managua, they have used tired shops called "vulcanizadoras" where they replace tires and refill them. It was past sunset, and I asked two guys who were standing by watching me nervously work on my wheels where the closest vulcanizadora was. They told me it was about 300 meters straight ahead. I was off. One hundred meters later my spare exploded! I drove ahead until I found the tire shop. When I arrived, half of my tire remained. I was astonished.
The store was about to close, and thank God they helped me. They had one left that was the size I needed. He explained to me that A lot of places will cut the tires and sell them so that you have to return when they go flat or are further damaged. Today I was getting ready to meet one of my coaches to train, and I saw the tire I just bought was flat. It was cut just like the man had said, but it was the tire he sold me. So I was off to find a new one. Three tire shops and ninety minutes later, I finally find a tire. It is undersized, and I later discovered it had a nail in it. I brought it back to my truck.
My landlord saw it, and he asked me what happened. He was indignant. He could not stand that I had been taken advantage of. He hopped on his Suzuki motorcycle and took me to a place the sells new tires. I watched him argue with the people for fifteen minutes about a specific tire that he uses on his trucks. They didn't have it. So he went off to check at the Oriental Market for a good tire. He came back thirty minutes later, telling me to follow him.
I had trouble keeping up with him as he weaved between cars and ran traffic lights, but when he got to far ahead, he stopped on the side of the road to wait for me. When we arrived at the market, he showed me the tire and explained its advantages to me. Then he negotiated the price, lowering it substantially. It is sturdy and new, and the first tire I've seen here with an innertube.
All of this may seem like a lot of stress over something innochuous, but sometimes that is life in a new place. I am thankful that it happened on my day off, so it didn't interfere with my work. The man who helped me the most turned out to be someone who I thought was out to swindle me on numerous occasions. I learned that I need to trust in the people God puts in my life. Returning to the proverb from the beginning, you should try not to ask too many people for directions when you are unsure. Trust in God and His servants. Otherwise you might take some costly detours before arriving at your final destination.
Que Deus te abençoe,
Seth
"I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go: I will guide thee with mine eye."
-Psalm 32:8
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Jungle Runner
Hello again amigos and readers,
Last night's blog was a bit of a downer, so I figured I would finally write one of the good stories from the visa renewal trip to Costa Rica. First good news from today. I met two of the people on the Nicaraguan Commision of MMA. I will be getting my liscense soon. Also one of the commisioners is a Christian and he is looking to help out with my program of martial arts evangelism! Now to the fun story.
Every three months, I have to leave Nicaragua and return after three days to renew my visa to be able to work here. So some of my friends came with me and arranged for a training camp with an associate in Acosta. We were there for three days, and our lodging and food were paid for. I was sick for the first two days, but I still trained. The last night, we were told to take our luggage with us because we would go to the mountains for a promotion ceremony and training. When we arrived there were over twenty people there. The four masters went up somewhere in an SUV. The rest of us had to hike through the jungle in pitch black to find the cabin near the the summits. It was awesome!!! There were bats and snakes, and we finally meandered our way to the cabin where the masters were waiting for us.
When we entered the cabin, there was only one room. There were over twenty of us. We all had the same thought. "Where am I going to sleep?" At midnight we found out the answer to that question. We weren't going to sleep. We trained until five in the morning. I gave a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu seminar in the mud somewhere around three a.m. When five o'clock rolled around, everyone crammed in the cabin to sleep for two hours. I went outside with two others to watch the sunrise. Then I went runnung through the rain forest by myself. It's not often that life gives you those kinds of opportunities. Carpe diem.
At seven a.m., we participated in a traditional Japanese ceremony where two of my friends were promoted to their next rank in Japanese Jiu Jitsu. All in all, it was an incredible experience. I even met a master who showed me some new ways to share the Gospel with my students in the class. Embrace your walk, and the people God puts on your path. You never know where He may lead you and what lessons you may learn on the way!
Daiwan jaini maimumbia,
Seth
Last night's blog was a bit of a downer, so I figured I would finally write one of the good stories from the visa renewal trip to Costa Rica. First good news from today. I met two of the people on the Nicaraguan Commision of MMA. I will be getting my liscense soon. Also one of the commisioners is a Christian and he is looking to help out with my program of martial arts evangelism! Now to the fun story.
Every three months, I have to leave Nicaragua and return after three days to renew my visa to be able to work here. So some of my friends came with me and arranged for a training camp with an associate in Acosta. We were there for three days, and our lodging and food were paid for. I was sick for the first two days, but I still trained. The last night, we were told to take our luggage with us because we would go to the mountains for a promotion ceremony and training. When we arrived there were over twenty people there. The four masters went up somewhere in an SUV. The rest of us had to hike through the jungle in pitch black to find the cabin near the the summits. It was awesome!!! There were bats and snakes, and we finally meandered our way to the cabin where the masters were waiting for us.
When we entered the cabin, there was only one room. There were over twenty of us. We all had the same thought. "Where am I going to sleep?" At midnight we found out the answer to that question. We weren't going to sleep. We trained until five in the morning. I gave a Brazilian Jiu Jitsu seminar in the mud somewhere around three a.m. When five o'clock rolled around, everyone crammed in the cabin to sleep for two hours. I went outside with two others to watch the sunrise. Then I went runnung through the rain forest by myself. It's not often that life gives you those kinds of opportunities. Carpe diem.
At seven a.m., we participated in a traditional Japanese ceremony where two of my friends were promoted to their next rank in Japanese Jiu Jitsu. All in all, it was an incredible experience. I even met a master who showed me some new ways to share the Gospel with my students in the class. Embrace your walk, and the people God puts on your path. You never know where He may lead you and what lessons you may learn on the way!
Daiwan jaini maimumbia,
Seth
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Hard Prayers for Old Places
Bon soir dear friends and strangers,
It has been a few weeks since I have posted anything here, and for that I apologize. Life has been crazy as usual with the normal ups and downs. God is my constant. I am thankful for that. Tonight however, my story is not about my present mission field in Nicaragua, but rather from my last calling in East St. Louis, where I was prepared for my work here.
I received a message from a former student of mine out of East St. Louis, Illinois. He told me that two of his friends were shot, one of whom died. The story is more gruesome than I would like to share, and it is very tragic considering both girls were only sixteen years old. We prayed for their families, the community, the girl who survived, and the young man who shot them both. His sentence is still undetermined, but God's judgment is not in until He decides. Even if this young man spends the next sixty years in prison, there is time for God to move in his heart.
For those who are aware of the violence of East St. Louis, you know that this is unfortunately not uncommon. I have heard a lot of these stories with different circumstances but the same results. The saddest part is that I have heard most of them from kids and youth. Last year, the city of St. Louis was statistically rated the third most violent city in the world beating out cities, like Baghdad, Iraq, Mogadishu, Somalia, Grozny, Chechnya, and Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Sixty-five percent of the violence came out of East St. Louis.
I lost a friend last year in East St. Louis, and it was difficult to hear ten-year-olds talk about how they spent Easter running from gun shots. I also lost a student who was eleven almost one year ago to another prevalent problem in the community: house fires. Yet as always, there is an upside to the situation in any place where tragedy abounds. There is a place in that city where kids and youth have a sanctuary filled with strong Christian role models who have helped shape the future and characters of thousands for over two decades. It's the Christian Activity Center. It is an after school community center that is entirely dedicated to the wholistic growth of kids in East St. Louis. It's also where I got my bearings as a missionary. Every week over six hundred kids pour into the CAC for guidance, programs, help with homework, and a whole lot more. Both girls were members, and leaves me with little doubt that God was active in their lives and gives me solace that the girl who passed is in a better place. If you want to learn more, go to www.cacesl.org. If you are in the Saint Louis area, please take some time to check this place out. It will move you.
Please pray for the families and community that have been affected by this awful situation. I ask that you pray that they see God's presence in the midst of this as well as His love. I also ask you to pray for the young man who is now in jail. Please pray that God uses this situation to speak to his heart. Nothing shall separate us from the love of God.
Gott segne dich,
Seth
It has been a few weeks since I have posted anything here, and for that I apologize. Life has been crazy as usual with the normal ups and downs. God is my constant. I am thankful for that. Tonight however, my story is not about my present mission field in Nicaragua, but rather from my last calling in East St. Louis, where I was prepared for my work here.
I received a message from a former student of mine out of East St. Louis, Illinois. He told me that two of his friends were shot, one of whom died. The story is more gruesome than I would like to share, and it is very tragic considering both girls were only sixteen years old. We prayed for their families, the community, the girl who survived, and the young man who shot them both. His sentence is still undetermined, but God's judgment is not in until He decides. Even if this young man spends the next sixty years in prison, there is time for God to move in his heart.
For those who are aware of the violence of East St. Louis, you know that this is unfortunately not uncommon. I have heard a lot of these stories with different circumstances but the same results. The saddest part is that I have heard most of them from kids and youth. Last year, the city of St. Louis was statistically rated the third most violent city in the world beating out cities, like Baghdad, Iraq, Mogadishu, Somalia, Grozny, Chechnya, and Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Sixty-five percent of the violence came out of East St. Louis.
I lost a friend last year in East St. Louis, and it was difficult to hear ten-year-olds talk about how they spent Easter running from gun shots. I also lost a student who was eleven almost one year ago to another prevalent problem in the community: house fires. Yet as always, there is an upside to the situation in any place where tragedy abounds. There is a place in that city where kids and youth have a sanctuary filled with strong Christian role models who have helped shape the future and characters of thousands for over two decades. It's the Christian Activity Center. It is an after school community center that is entirely dedicated to the wholistic growth of kids in East St. Louis. It's also where I got my bearings as a missionary. Every week over six hundred kids pour into the CAC for guidance, programs, help with homework, and a whole lot more. Both girls were members, and leaves me with little doubt that God was active in their lives and gives me solace that the girl who passed is in a better place. If you want to learn more, go to www.cacesl.org. If you are in the Saint Louis area, please take some time to check this place out. It will move you.
Please pray for the families and community that have been affected by this awful situation. I ask that you pray that they see God's presence in the midst of this as well as His love. I also ask you to pray for the young man who is now in jail. Please pray that God uses this situation to speak to his heart. Nothing shall separate us from the love of God.
Gott segne dich,
Seth
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