Ashaninka volume 5

Our host in the Ashaninka community, Lydia, wanted to show us the chacra (orchard) that she and her family own and cultivate.  So armed with plenty of bug repellent and not enough sunblock, we traipsed through the brush, forged a couple of small rivers (in our tennisshoes), tried to keep up with our machete carrying friends and were amazed at the amount of carambola, cocao and banana trees surrounding us.  We also saw their hundreds of yuca plants, cotton, beans and watermelon plants.  I watched in amazement as Emely, a 10 year old girl, shimmied up a tree, barefoot, as fast as a monkey.  She grabbed a large shell, Lydia hacked it open and we sucked on cocao seeds (which taste nothing at all like chocolate, but will eventually be used to make chocolate).  We watched as Lydia used her machete to pull up yuca and hack away at the unwanted weeds around it.  We finally made it to the Perene River,  where the kids had run ahead and were happily splashing and playing in the mud and murky water.

Hiking back to the house, my thoughts were on how hard these people work.  Day after day they spend in the scorching sun, being eaten alive by river mosquitos and every other kind of mosquito, physically spending themselves so they can eat and send their kids to school.  I don't pity them, just admire them.  I also have a greater appreciation for the ease we have of buying fruits and vegetables already harvested and ready to eat.

As we gathered in the crude living room, seated on a wood bench, tree trunks or the dirt ground, tired and wet, all of us, somehow we were able to turn our attention to God's love and His marvelous creation.  We thanked Him aloud, each one speaking his thanks for something specific and my heart was blessed.  The children were shyly thankful for mangos, oranges, people, stars and animals.  Lucas was thankful for swimming pools.

Just as Lydia reaps what she sows, so do we in life.  We humbly sow love and God's words, trusting to reap souls for Christ.

Ashaninka volume 4

Tonight we were welcomed with a big bowl of carambola or "star fruit" and a big bunch of bananas, both taken from back yard trees.  Brent competed with a birthday party across the street, so we're not sure how much of the lesson sunk in, but it was sweet to watch the eyes light up at the realization that God created mango trees and apple trees, with US in mind!  His great love for us from the beginning is staggering.  After the lesson, we sang and sang.  These people love to sing!

The mother in me worried tonight as several of the children were coughing a deep, ugly cough.  I asked if they had medicine to give them and was told no.  I selfishly prayed for protection for my own kids as I looked around at numerous runny noses and listened to the coughs all around.

While Brent was hearing from Edison, the only adult male so far that comes to the study, of his sordid past and his hesitiation to reconcile with God, the kids were running free and happy, barefoot, all of them, from age 3 to 13.  I took a picture and was begged to take more, more, more pictures....just one more, just one more and of course, they all wanted to see each one afterward!  As the flash flashed, Edison admitted to being unsaved and unready.  Please pray for Edison's salvation and for grace and wisdom to minister to these sweet people.

Behind the meat

As I walk through the air conditioned grocery chain in the U.S., glancing over the assortment of ground, deboned, filleted, fresh and clean meats, I don't even give a second's thought to the people behind it all, who have raised, killed, cleaned, cut and packaged it all for the consumer's ease.  I just expect it to be packaged and weighed right, priced fairly and easy for me to buy.

As I walk through the hot, stinky, dirty and crowded market in the town of Pichanaki, glancing over the assortment of cow legs, whole chickens, sides of pigs, dripping chunks of beef, all hanging from hooks in the open air, I get to see the people behind it....there, literally, behind the counter.

The fresh meat is cut up and hung daily.  No cleaning is really done, because....well, why is it really necessary?  If I want beef ground, the kind sir will plop a chunk of bloody beef in his not-so-clean grinder and push it through with his bare hands.  He'll then bag it and tie it up nice and tight for me, also using those same bare hands.  If I want pork ribs, the kind lady will take down the huge pig hanging, hack it up for my viewing pleasure and send me on my way with my ribs, wrapped in brown paper, that may or may not keep in all the, uh, juices.  If I want a chicken, the lady may or may not chop its head and feet off, depending on how busy she is.  The chicken will inevitably still have feathers that need plucking and will definitely need to be cleaned thoroughly before cooking.

I am thankful for meat and the variety we do have.  I just miss the nice, labeled meat section at Wal-Mart.  That's all.

Ashaninka, volume 3

As in all dark, unevangelized places, the spirit world is a very real and common thing.  Most will have stories of ghosts, "happenings", things they've heard, etc.  Today, we talked about this and we could see the fear in the children's eyes.  I'm sure they've all heard the stories too or maybe even experienced demonic activity themselves.  Brent shared with them how God is much stronger and bigger than anything else.  What's more, He is the Creator of these fallen angels that torment, destroy and confuse.  He can crush them if He chooses and they certainly can't touch His children without His permission.

Today, as the children sucked on their lollipops, as I walked the fussy baby to the back of the house where the chickens roam free and the vegetation is thick and alive, as ears and hearts were open to Bible truths.....God was there.  That's the amazing thing.  Our big God who has more power than we can fathom, was in that little mud living room with us, His Spirit helping us understand, enlightening us.

As we walked away under the black, black sky covered with stars, I could just sigh and smile and hope....

Please pray with us.

"Special" days

My kids are always wanting to do something "special" or have a "special" day or a "special" dessert.  I understand this because I love special things and events too!

What I am trying to learn and teach is that each moment is SPECIAL!  Today is worth celebrating.  Right now is special and wonderful.  Each day is a gift, each moment a celebration of life.

Sounds romantic and even spiritual, doesn't it?

So, even the moment when sweat is pouring down my back, one child is whining, the other making a mess - even THIS moment is special???

So, when the whole day has seemed a waste of energy, time and resources - even THIS day is worth celebrating???

So, the minutes of illness, the minutes of strife, the minutes of gritty life - even THESE minutes are worth praising God for???

YES, YES, YES!!!!

Every moment is a praiseworthy moment.  Every minute is made for joy and celebration.  Each day is a beautiful, extravagant gift from the Creator of all things Himself.

Even TODAY and RIGHT NOW - let's praise Him together!

Ashaninka, volume 2

We learned today that the community we are visiting, called the Bajo Kimiriki, consists of 70 families, many more than we expected.  They jokingly call themselves "civilized" when comparing their tribe with others.  We also learned that most of the children don't know much of their native tongue, Ashaninka, even though their mothers talk to them frequently using it.

Today, 12 children, 1 teenage girl and 5 adults crammed into the rough living room of our host, Lydia.  The bottom floor of her house is made of mud bricks held together with mud, and the second floor is made of wood planks.  She set out a plate of pituka, also known as malanga, a potato-like root that had been boiled and left for us to peel and eat with our hands.  Honestly, I felt sick eating it, but I swallowed and quietly gave a big chunk to a little girl who gladly accepted it.  I am not a picky eater, but something about it.......

Brent talked about what God is like and what man is like.  I think they learned a lot about God's bigness and goodness.  What a sweet group of giggly, eager students!  When he was done, they wanted to sing, so we sang.  One young mother sang a song for us in Ashaninka, a praise song.  It was beautiful.

We gave New Testaments to every child who can read and they were so happy to receive them.  One mom told them they had to take good care of them and bring them next week, clean and neat.  They all nodded in agreement.

As we left, we were given a lovely papaya, taken from their papaya tree.  Also, Lydia shared her concern for her husband who is addicted to coca leaves, which are used to make cocaine.  He is also not interested in God or learning about Him.  Please pray with us for Eduardo that he will hear God's voice and answer.

Here we go......

Ashaninka, volume 1

Native to the rainforests and jungles of Peru and Brazil,  there are hundreds of villages/communities consisting of the indian tribe called the Ahaninka in Peru.  Their main language is Ashaninka, but some do speak Spanish as well.  Their typical dress is a long brown robe/dress, but many have exchanged that for western clothes.  They are very clannish and make their living from working in fruit orchards and hunting.  Most children living near a town will at least finish elementary school.

Just outside of Pichanaki, there are many small communities of Ashaninka families and God has opened the door wide for us to be able to share the gospel and minister to some of them.  A friend in Lima gave Brent a list of the names of five families who he had shared the gospel with at some time.  The seed has already been planted here.  After a little searching, Brent found two of the families and they were happy and willing for him to go regularly to their community to teach the Bible.

None of us knew what to expect yesterday at our first meeting.  We were welcomed with open arms and lots of coconuts!  In anticipation of our arrival, one lady had gotten some coconuts down from her tree, peeled off the outer shell, cleaned them and had them ready for us.  She cut into them with a sharp knife, coconut meat flying everywhere, and made holes for us to drink from.  Coconut is one of the few things I sincerely dislike, but what are ya gonna do?  I drank.  She thought of an even better idea - straws!  So she sent one of her five children to run and get us some bamboo straws so we could drink all of the coconut water.  I pretended to drink.

When it was time to start, there were about 10 kids, one teenage girl, and two mothers.  There was a crude wooden bench that someone had brought outside and......the dirt ground.  One lady covered part of the dirt with a burlap bag of sorts and we all huddled together on that, ants and mosquitos having a feast.  We realized they had brought out the bench for Brent!   Brent grabbed a small stump/stool and sat on that instead, and began explaining what the Bible is.  I loved how he used a globe to show where the Bible was written and how through all these years, it has made it all the way around to Peru!  They all said they did not have a Bible.  We plan to fix that next week.

Pray with us for these precious people who Jesus died for.  May He lead the way and continue to open doors.