Kombanwa!
It is the eve of my son's first birthday. I have come home from work, played with him, and I am watching him wander around the house independently with just one sock on his feet. I have tried to urgently keep him away from the oven while baking dinner. I can't help but be amazed though as I look at him playing with my shoes. They are over half the length of his body. I remember how long it took for me fit my own dad's shoes, and now I am in his position. The shoe is on the other foot.
Thing s have changed a lot since those days. It is hard to comprehend everything that has happened since then. I have reflected on a few memories that stood out more recently. These are the things I want to honor and contribute to my own son's childhood experiences as I give my best at raising him to be a good man. This is the father I will always love and respect regardless of anything else that happened. Everyone makes mistakes big and small, but this is the highlight reel I want to post.
1. As a child I spent much of my time memorizing the populations of cities around the world as well as the local small towns. I did this from seven to eight years old. My dad would take me to the edge of different towns until we got to the green city limit signs that had the popultation listed just below the white bold letters of the town's name. We would do a u-turn then and come back home.
2. At about the same age, I wanted to be a herpetologist. I had a lizard, a turtle, and I caught a lot of toads and frogs. What I really wanted was a snake. We lived next to a corn field, and there was a long corn snake that lived near the wood pile in the back yard. My dad went back and caught with his hands, bringing it over Steve Irwin style. He put it inside of my rectangular, glass aquarium, where the unnamed snake spent its few moments of captivity beating its head against the transparent walls without ceasing. I looked at my dad and said, "I don't want a snake anymore." So my dad reached in and grabbed the hostile serpent, taking it back to the wood pile from whence it came.
3. My father was the pilot of our many long-drive summer vacations. Whether it was a Highland Games festival in North Carolina, the Smoky Mountains, Galveston, Texas, Niagra Falls, or even Matamoros, Mexico once, he drove us the many miles to get us to see new places. The best example was going to Wisconsin Dells, where we decided it was too cold, so we turned araound and drove to the opposite end of the country at Perdido Key, Florida. It seemed that no adventure was too far away if it meant a good memory for the family.
I want to encourage my son's thirst for knowledge. I want to enable him to embrace his passions. I want to take him on adventures he will remember for the rest of his life. My father did this for me. I will honor what he did for me by doing the same for my son. I will make my own mistakes along the way as well. However, I will leave him some footsteps worth following too. I just have to be careful not to step in any pits along the way. How does that song go?
"Lord, I want to be just like You because he wants to be just like me."
Que Dieu te benisse!
Wednesday, October 28, 2015
Saturday, October 17, 2015
Scavenger Hunt
Bom dia!
This morning I had some extra time on my hands at the community center since none of my adults showed up for class. I started off with two kids who rode up to me on their bikes asking if they could get extra training early. I told them to come back in 15 minutes. They did not show up again. I was feeling a little discouraged, but I used the time to check my email since I rarely have time to do so in between teaching time.
One of my co-workers approached me, and we began to talk about the issues of the community like consistency, initiative, discipline, priorities, goal-setting, and the list went on. She works with the families in the communtiy to educate parents on nutrition, child interaction, violence and domestic abuse, health, financial planning, and other issues they confront on a daily basis in the struggle to survive. The conversation ended on the note that we need to go into the community itself and meet with families where they are at. Their kids will come, but if they have no material incentive, the parents will not show up. Abstract, long term rewards do not work well for people who do not have hope in tomorrow.
I have worked with a number of good parents here who prioritize well and plan for their families' futures, but they are the minority from what we have seen. My co-worker suggested going to them if they won't come to us. This reminded me of something from working in Managua. I went to speak on honoring your father when he has hurt you or when he was not there. The message was for the youth of the church. They did not show up. I sat in the church and prayed, and I Heard, "Take the church to them."
I went with a young man up the street, where we found a kid who had robbed me and one of the two gangs involved in a shoot out that closed my youth group a few months earlier. We went up to them and asked if we could share the message. The were drunk, high, and covered in bandages from machete wounds, but they agreed and listened intently. They even collectively hushed down one of them who interrupted with his incessant giggling. We were invited back week after week, and eventually they got involved in churches and got jobs. The gang was disbanded.
So today I went into the Gompers projects trying to take the church to them. I sought out the young man we prayed for a month and a half ago who had been shot four times. I couldn't find him. I went to the last building at the edge of the neighborhood, and he wasn't there. Who was there was a gang of young men staring me down and walking towards me. I felt like I was reliving my experience. I remember the initial fear. I thought they were moving in on me. Then one of them yelled to me, waving emphatically, "Mr. Hamilton!!" It was a former student from years ago. He had come in to lift weights with me earlier in the week and came in late this morning to see if we would train again. This time I got to meet the whole group. One of them recognized me from when I was going through the neighborhood advertising clases a few months ago. I also ran into a lot of the kids I work with. It is always eye-opening to see them in their context, walking through the street or hollering from their doorways.
I did not find what I was looking for today, but I did come upon some hidden treasures. Our director once told me to look to Isaiah 45:3 which says, "And I will give you treasures in the darkness, and hidden wealth of secret places, in order that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who calls you by your name." I know what real wealth is, and these experiences are both lavished and vitalizing. I am greatful to have them, and they come from a morning stroll through the ghetto. Amidst the broken glass and broken dreams there is still hope, and there are still smiles and laughter. There is excitement for a new day. I didn't find what I wanted, but I found what I needed to discover.
Modimo au gaugele!
This morning I had some extra time on my hands at the community center since none of my adults showed up for class. I started off with two kids who rode up to me on their bikes asking if they could get extra training early. I told them to come back in 15 minutes. They did not show up again. I was feeling a little discouraged, but I used the time to check my email since I rarely have time to do so in between teaching time.
One of my co-workers approached me, and we began to talk about the issues of the community like consistency, initiative, discipline, priorities, goal-setting, and the list went on. She works with the families in the communtiy to educate parents on nutrition, child interaction, violence and domestic abuse, health, financial planning, and other issues they confront on a daily basis in the struggle to survive. The conversation ended on the note that we need to go into the community itself and meet with families where they are at. Their kids will come, but if they have no material incentive, the parents will not show up. Abstract, long term rewards do not work well for people who do not have hope in tomorrow.
I have worked with a number of good parents here who prioritize well and plan for their families' futures, but they are the minority from what we have seen. My co-worker suggested going to them if they won't come to us. This reminded me of something from working in Managua. I went to speak on honoring your father when he has hurt you or when he was not there. The message was for the youth of the church. They did not show up. I sat in the church and prayed, and I Heard, "Take the church to them."
I went with a young man up the street, where we found a kid who had robbed me and one of the two gangs involved in a shoot out that closed my youth group a few months earlier. We went up to them and asked if we could share the message. The were drunk, high, and covered in bandages from machete wounds, but they agreed and listened intently. They even collectively hushed down one of them who interrupted with his incessant giggling. We were invited back week after week, and eventually they got involved in churches and got jobs. The gang was disbanded.
So today I went into the Gompers projects trying to take the church to them. I sought out the young man we prayed for a month and a half ago who had been shot four times. I couldn't find him. I went to the last building at the edge of the neighborhood, and he wasn't there. Who was there was a gang of young men staring me down and walking towards me. I felt like I was reliving my experience. I remember the initial fear. I thought they were moving in on me. Then one of them yelled to me, waving emphatically, "Mr. Hamilton!!" It was a former student from years ago. He had come in to lift weights with me earlier in the week and came in late this morning to see if we would train again. This time I got to meet the whole group. One of them recognized me from when I was going through the neighborhood advertising clases a few months ago. I also ran into a lot of the kids I work with. It is always eye-opening to see them in their context, walking through the street or hollering from their doorways.
I did not find what I was looking for today, but I did come upon some hidden treasures. Our director once told me to look to Isaiah 45:3 which says, "And I will give you treasures in the darkness, and hidden wealth of secret places, in order that you may know that it is I, the Lord, the God of Israel, who calls you by your name." I know what real wealth is, and these experiences are both lavished and vitalizing. I am greatful to have them, and they come from a morning stroll through the ghetto. Amidst the broken glass and broken dreams there is still hope, and there are still smiles and laughter. There is excitement for a new day. I didn't find what I wanted, but I found what I needed to discover.
Modimo au gaugele!
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Back in the Neighborhood
Guten abend meinen freunden!
So it has been over two years since I have written here. I have dearly missed the cathartic experience of writing. I have a good many stories to tell from my absence, and there are new ones being written in my quotidian routine. I have had a son, traveled to several new countries, fought numerous more fights and tournaments, been robbed, caught chikungunya fever, moved from Nicaragua, etc., etc.
I have another fight coming soon, and my son will be a year old soon. There will be a lot to update, and I will even be publishing some poetry here too. I have to say that in spite of some Everest highs and Mariana's trench lows over the last couple of years, I am left with just two words: praise God! The road is very winding right now and there are certain to be many obstacles, ecstasies, and mundane moments ahead. I welcome them all as well as the lessons they bring. No vayas por el camino que te lleva, sino ve por donde no hay camino y deja huellas.
I am back in East St. Louis with more skills and knowledge to prepare leaders there. Now we have people from around the world who Skype the kids for them to practice their language skills. I have to thank all of the people who have poured MMA techniques and wisdom into me in my excursions throughout Central America and to Katayama-san in Osaka for the boxing tips as well. It is great to be able to share them with my students here. I have more kids consistently kicking butt than in any class I have taught anywhere.
I have to say though that my return has been somewhat bizarre and sad. Many of the business' in East St. Louis have shut down. Shootings have gone up. While visiting one of the projects, I ran across a young man who had been shot four times. We went up to his room to pray for him, and we could see the bandages on his arm and his stomach. He could stand up, but he is confined to his room. He makes me think of this city: seriously wounded, but alive and breathing. There is much to be done here. The school district is on strike as well. Many kids are losing out on what education they get. The timing is right for this season in my life to work here again.
There is so much more to share, but this is just to break the ice. I will be putting time into this periodically to keep everyone updated as to what is going on on the frontline, and I will also be putting up some of the stories from my "sabbatical" from this page. Have a great day, and keep fighting the good fight!
Daiwan jaini mai mumbia!
So it has been over two years since I have written here. I have dearly missed the cathartic experience of writing. I have a good many stories to tell from my absence, and there are new ones being written in my quotidian routine. I have had a son, traveled to several new countries, fought numerous more fights and tournaments, been robbed, caught chikungunya fever, moved from Nicaragua, etc., etc.
I have another fight coming soon, and my son will be a year old soon. There will be a lot to update, and I will even be publishing some poetry here too. I have to say that in spite of some Everest highs and Mariana's trench lows over the last couple of years, I am left with just two words: praise God! The road is very winding right now and there are certain to be many obstacles, ecstasies, and mundane moments ahead. I welcome them all as well as the lessons they bring. No vayas por el camino que te lleva, sino ve por donde no hay camino y deja huellas.
I am back in East St. Louis with more skills and knowledge to prepare leaders there. Now we have people from around the world who Skype the kids for them to practice their language skills. I have to thank all of the people who have poured MMA techniques and wisdom into me in my excursions throughout Central America and to Katayama-san in Osaka for the boxing tips as well. It is great to be able to share them with my students here. I have more kids consistently kicking butt than in any class I have taught anywhere.
I have to say though that my return has been somewhat bizarre and sad. Many of the business' in East St. Louis have shut down. Shootings have gone up. While visiting one of the projects, I ran across a young man who had been shot four times. We went up to his room to pray for him, and we could see the bandages on his arm and his stomach. He could stand up, but he is confined to his room. He makes me think of this city: seriously wounded, but alive and breathing. There is much to be done here. The school district is on strike as well. Many kids are losing out on what education they get. The timing is right for this season in my life to work here again.
There is so much more to share, but this is just to break the ice. I will be putting time into this periodically to keep everyone updated as to what is going on on the frontline, and I will also be putting up some of the stories from my "sabbatical" from this page. Have a great day, and keep fighting the good fight!
Daiwan jaini mai mumbia!
Monday, May 13, 2013
Red Tape Marathon
Kombanwa friends and readers,
A good marathon runner can run 26.2 miles in under 4 hours. I am astounded by that. But what happens if it is a 26.2 mile obstacle course? Could their bodies endure? Would their spirits break? We all set goals for ourselves, sometimes it is just another day of work, or it might be whenever we step through our front doors. Usually it is a combination of all of them. We struggle to have the endurance and mental toughness to make it through the twenty-four hours we are given and how we use them. How do you keep pushing forward when you are dehydrated and cramping? Or when you think your muscles will give out?
I have spent a lot of 5 am to 10 or 11 pm days in the last months. Then I got sick last week, and I still wound up with a pretty full plate of work. I learned a valuable lesson last week when I felt like my time was out of my hands. Patience allots to success in that it allows you to relax and see the opportunities in the midst of chaos. It is also the source of the endurance we need to advance forward when we feel so far behind on our priorities. Today was my chance to put this lesson into practice.
I have training for a fight this Friday. I have to prepare for my trip back to the U.S. next Monday. I am still working on ministry stuff for this week. My biggest goal for this year is to take a small mission team of Nicaraguans to Japan, and today that took its just place on the totem pole consuming nearly the whole day. The result was satisfying.
My wife and I will take two youth to Osaka, Japan in November to share the gospel. One is a polyglot volunteer with the One by One ministry who sings, cooks, and speaks Spanish, English, German, and Japanese. His spare time is spent working with kids here in the church on scholastic reinforcement. The other is one of my wife's Japanese students at the House of Hope. The House of Hope is a refuge for women who were prostitutes and their children. This young woman is studying to be a nurse with a diligent work ethic and a humble heart. The young man, Kevin, obtained his passport a few weeks ago. Today we went out for the girl's passport.
My wife and I left our house at 6:30 this morning. We got to the House of Hope at 7. We checked to make sure that the girl had all of the necessary documents. From there we left for the immigration offices to get her passport. When we arrive at immigration, we are placed in the first line of many to be sent to one of the other innumerable lines. There we are told that our payments are not accepted at immigration, but rather at the bank located at a convenient ten-minute drive. We go to the bank where we luckily find one of the only drive thru transactions and pay for the passport. We then take the voucher back to immigration. We go back through the first line, and the lady directs us to another line where we can by the paperwork for the passport. We get the paperwork, and the four of us fill it out as a team to avoid any mistakes or ink stains which would cause us to restart the process. Then we go outside to photocopy our documents. Then we return to the first line. The lady asks for all of the documents. We were told at first that we just needed the birth certificate, and the lady asks for a cédula(like a social security card). The girl was just eligible to get one in January, but they had not yet given her hers. So now we had to hunt this down.
We drive to the other side of a major city to a small office, where supposedly we might find the cédula that was applied for four months prior. When we arrive They tell us that the government changed the required document for withdrawal from her birth cirtificate from the mayor's office, to a birth certificate from the Supreme Electoral Counsel which was located even further away, and we did not know what she needed for it. They changed the law and her birth certificate that she had for her entire existence on this planet was now null. We then remembered that they said that she could also use her application information for her cédula. So we drove to the House of Hope outside of the city itself on a dirt road in the mountains outside of the city to get the application information.
Once we obtain what we need, we drive all the way back to the immigration office. We go through the first line again, and we finally pass!!! They send us to a new line where we wait to get a number to stand in another line. This line took by far the longest, but when the girl and her mother stepped in, they turned in their documents, went through a confusing interview, and finally got confirmed for her passport!!!! It took almost nine hours total, but mission accomplished!
In the midst of it all I kept praying, and I felt like God was repeating, "Just be patient." Sometimes patience is God's way of preparing us for bigger things. Sometimes we need the obstacle courses to mold our characters into what God is calling us to be for the next situation. Endurance training prepares us for bigger races, and the race we run for God's glory is the biggest there is. Don't let exhaustion stop you! Be patient and keeps your eyes on the prize!
O daiji ni!!
"We can rejoice too when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation." - Romans 5:3-4
A good marathon runner can run 26.2 miles in under 4 hours. I am astounded by that. But what happens if it is a 26.2 mile obstacle course? Could their bodies endure? Would their spirits break? We all set goals for ourselves, sometimes it is just another day of work, or it might be whenever we step through our front doors. Usually it is a combination of all of them. We struggle to have the endurance and mental toughness to make it through the twenty-four hours we are given and how we use them. How do you keep pushing forward when you are dehydrated and cramping? Or when you think your muscles will give out?
I have spent a lot of 5 am to 10 or 11 pm days in the last months. Then I got sick last week, and I still wound up with a pretty full plate of work. I learned a valuable lesson last week when I felt like my time was out of my hands. Patience allots to success in that it allows you to relax and see the opportunities in the midst of chaos. It is also the source of the endurance we need to advance forward when we feel so far behind on our priorities. Today was my chance to put this lesson into practice.
I have training for a fight this Friday. I have to prepare for my trip back to the U.S. next Monday. I am still working on ministry stuff for this week. My biggest goal for this year is to take a small mission team of Nicaraguans to Japan, and today that took its just place on the totem pole consuming nearly the whole day. The result was satisfying.
My wife and I will take two youth to Osaka, Japan in November to share the gospel. One is a polyglot volunteer with the One by One ministry who sings, cooks, and speaks Spanish, English, German, and Japanese. His spare time is spent working with kids here in the church on scholastic reinforcement. The other is one of my wife's Japanese students at the House of Hope. The House of Hope is a refuge for women who were prostitutes and their children. This young woman is studying to be a nurse with a diligent work ethic and a humble heart. The young man, Kevin, obtained his passport a few weeks ago. Today we went out for the girl's passport.
My wife and I left our house at 6:30 this morning. We got to the House of Hope at 7. We checked to make sure that the girl had all of the necessary documents. From there we left for the immigration offices to get her passport. When we arrive at immigration, we are placed in the first line of many to be sent to one of the other innumerable lines. There we are told that our payments are not accepted at immigration, but rather at the bank located at a convenient ten-minute drive. We go to the bank where we luckily find one of the only drive thru transactions and pay for the passport. We then take the voucher back to immigration. We go back through the first line, and the lady directs us to another line where we can by the paperwork for the passport. We get the paperwork, and the four of us fill it out as a team to avoid any mistakes or ink stains which would cause us to restart the process. Then we go outside to photocopy our documents. Then we return to the first line. The lady asks for all of the documents. We were told at first that we just needed the birth certificate, and the lady asks for a cédula(like a social security card). The girl was just eligible to get one in January, but they had not yet given her hers. So now we had to hunt this down.
We drive to the other side of a major city to a small office, where supposedly we might find the cédula that was applied for four months prior. When we arrive They tell us that the government changed the required document for withdrawal from her birth cirtificate from the mayor's office, to a birth certificate from the Supreme Electoral Counsel which was located even further away, and we did not know what she needed for it. They changed the law and her birth certificate that she had for her entire existence on this planet was now null. We then remembered that they said that she could also use her application information for her cédula. So we drove to the House of Hope outside of the city itself on a dirt road in the mountains outside of the city to get the application information.
Once we obtain what we need, we drive all the way back to the immigration office. We go through the first line again, and we finally pass!!! They send us to a new line where we wait to get a number to stand in another line. This line took by far the longest, but when the girl and her mother stepped in, they turned in their documents, went through a confusing interview, and finally got confirmed for her passport!!!! It took almost nine hours total, but mission accomplished!
In the midst of it all I kept praying, and I felt like God was repeating, "Just be patient." Sometimes patience is God's way of preparing us for bigger things. Sometimes we need the obstacle courses to mold our characters into what God is calling us to be for the next situation. Endurance training prepares us for bigger races, and the race we run for God's glory is the biggest there is. Don't let exhaustion stop you! Be patient and keeps your eyes on the prize!
O daiji ni!!
"We can rejoice too when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation." - Romans 5:3-4
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Return to the Ring!
Good evening lectores, amigos, y desconocidos!
It has been quite some time since I last wrote here, but I am ready to get back into the game. A lot happens in a year time, and I will expound on the events in greater detail in more posts coming soon. A quick recap of the major events so far in 2013. I GOT MARRIED!!! And, yes, she is the most wonderful woman I know. I have continued into the ministry here in Nicaragua. I am still working with the youth at One by One, and teaching self defense to the girls at the House of Hope. I have opened up MMA classes for adults, cornered three fighters, and taken my team into the barrios to reach out to the youth of the harder neighborhoods. I also had my first two fights, both of which I won in the first few minutes by submission. We opened up a new small group in one of our target neighborhoods, and our youth services are growing every Saturday. So that is the retrospective view, so let's look ahead a bit.
I am not just returning to writing now, but in the next week I will be returning to two other places. On May 20th, my wife and I will be going back to the United States for three weeks. We will have a wedding there for all of the friends and family who could not come to Nicaragua when we got married here in January. We will also get back in touch with the churches at home, and will go back to train with my martial arts family at Invicta Academy. We will also visit my first home as a full time missionary, the Christian Activity Center in East St. Louis. It will be a packed itinerary, but I am excited to see what will be in store for us and what lessons God has to teach us as we go there.
The other place is the ring(no, not an octagon, I go back there in June). I have my third fight here for a Christian promotion (unique idea, no?). Instead of having female dancers at the intermission, they give testimonies, and the whole show is opened with a prayer and a short sermon. The whole thing is run by a pro fighter friend and missionary, Brian Green, who hales from my birth city, Des Moines, Iowa. He also almost beat Kimbo Slice in a straight boxing match weighing 60 pounds less! Now he lives here in Nicaragua running his sports ministry and Bible studies. He is putting me against a Central American champion boxer for his show this Friday, so it won't be a surprise if I greet my family at the airport three days later with a black eye. Nevertheless, it is an exciting challenge, and I am happy to support my friend's work for the Lord in doing so.
There is always a feeling of nostalgia that accompanies us as we go back to an old place. Sometimes they are warm, fuzzy feelings. Sometimes we go back with tense fears. Introspectively speaking, it is always good to review where we have been to get a good grip on where we are and where we are going. If regression provokes feelings of comfort, we have to be careful not to become stagnant. If it is a place of fear, we must be strong enough to confront our past and overcome it. Going back to the U.S. is going back to my comfort zone. However, I know that God still has lessons for me to learn there, so I cannot just move into vacation mode. The ring is a scary place. I will be assailed with punches, and maybe some kicks and knees, yet I cannot be deterred from entering because every victory is a victory for my students and a chance to reach out to new people.
If you read this and you need to go back to God, don't be held back by your past, or you will miss out on His future! We all have baggage, so don't miss your flight. He has a plan for your life, and He is faithful to forgive those confess their sins (1 John 1:9). Keep fighting the good fight for the faith!
Que Dios les bendiga!
Seth
"Therefore tell all the people: This is what the Lord Almighty says, 'Return to me,' declares the Lord Almighty, 'and I will return to you,' says the Lord Almighty." - Zechariah 1:3
It has been quite some time since I last wrote here, but I am ready to get back into the game. A lot happens in a year time, and I will expound on the events in greater detail in more posts coming soon. A quick recap of the major events so far in 2013. I GOT MARRIED!!! And, yes, she is the most wonderful woman I know. I have continued into the ministry here in Nicaragua. I am still working with the youth at One by One, and teaching self defense to the girls at the House of Hope. I have opened up MMA classes for adults, cornered three fighters, and taken my team into the barrios to reach out to the youth of the harder neighborhoods. I also had my first two fights, both of which I won in the first few minutes by submission. We opened up a new small group in one of our target neighborhoods, and our youth services are growing every Saturday. So that is the retrospective view, so let's look ahead a bit.
I am not just returning to writing now, but in the next week I will be returning to two other places. On May 20th, my wife and I will be going back to the United States for three weeks. We will have a wedding there for all of the friends and family who could not come to Nicaragua when we got married here in January. We will also get back in touch with the churches at home, and will go back to train with my martial arts family at Invicta Academy. We will also visit my first home as a full time missionary, the Christian Activity Center in East St. Louis. It will be a packed itinerary, but I am excited to see what will be in store for us and what lessons God has to teach us as we go there.
The other place is the ring(no, not an octagon, I go back there in June). I have my third fight here for a Christian promotion (unique idea, no?). Instead of having female dancers at the intermission, they give testimonies, and the whole show is opened with a prayer and a short sermon. The whole thing is run by a pro fighter friend and missionary, Brian Green, who hales from my birth city, Des Moines, Iowa. He also almost beat Kimbo Slice in a straight boxing match weighing 60 pounds less! Now he lives here in Nicaragua running his sports ministry and Bible studies. He is putting me against a Central American champion boxer for his show this Friday, so it won't be a surprise if I greet my family at the airport three days later with a black eye. Nevertheless, it is an exciting challenge, and I am happy to support my friend's work for the Lord in doing so.
There is always a feeling of nostalgia that accompanies us as we go back to an old place. Sometimes they are warm, fuzzy feelings. Sometimes we go back with tense fears. Introspectively speaking, it is always good to review where we have been to get a good grip on where we are and where we are going. If regression provokes feelings of comfort, we have to be careful not to become stagnant. If it is a place of fear, we must be strong enough to confront our past and overcome it. Going back to the U.S. is going back to my comfort zone. However, I know that God still has lessons for me to learn there, so I cannot just move into vacation mode. The ring is a scary place. I will be assailed with punches, and maybe some kicks and knees, yet I cannot be deterred from entering because every victory is a victory for my students and a chance to reach out to new people.
If you read this and you need to go back to God, don't be held back by your past, or you will miss out on His future! We all have baggage, so don't miss your flight. He has a plan for your life, and He is faithful to forgive those confess their sins (1 John 1:9). Keep fighting the good fight for the faith!
Que Dios les bendiga!
Seth
"Therefore tell all the people: This is what the Lord Almighty says, 'Return to me,' declares the Lord Almighty, 'and I will return to you,' says the Lord Almighty." - Zechariah 1:3
Sunday, June 24, 2012
There Goes the Neighborhood
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
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
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
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