Ron's blog

Four Churches in Four Days

2009-05-15T11:25:00.001-07:00

Living Word Community Church of York Pennsylvania is an amazing little church with a big agenda. For years this church of only about 2,000 members sets aside 30% of its annual budget to support missions. On this particular trip my family would be lending a hand in planting 4 new churches in the Nebaj region under the leadership of longtime missionary Mike McCoomb. Mike heads up, ASELSI (The Equipping the Saints Association), a bible institute where he trains pastors. He has been in this area of Guatemala for over 20 years. In fact his wife, Terri is about to have a book published which tells about the horrors experienced in that area during the guerilla uprising in the 80’s. Now the graduates of ASELSI are getting a hand in building churches for their congregation. Every morning our group of nearly 20 would meet for breakfast and reflection before loading on a bus to our destination. The villages would include Chajul, Chiul, Salquil Grande, and VijolomII. The Mayan dialect of Ixil is spoke in these villages. Ixil is only one of the 21 dialects of the Mayans. The most widely spoken in Guatemala is Quichean. More people speak Quichean than even Spanish in the Guatemala region. The goal of the Pennsylvania team was to get these churches started and out of the ground. This would entail work we are very familiar with------digging footers through rock and clay, tying and setting steel, and the mixing, hauling and pouring of cement. At each new location we worked alongside the pastor and church members

When driving to the village of VijolomII we stopped at a church that overlooked a valley and another mountain. It was here in the mid-80s that God had protected over 270 church members that were fleeing the communist rebels. This was one of the bloodiest regions during the conflict. The communist had been slaughtering villages, especially targeting the Christians and those refusing to fight for their cause. It was in the darkness of night when the Pastor lead his parishioners down one side of the mountain and was heading up the other mountain range with the guerillas hot in pursuit. Dawn was breaking and the rebels were closing in for the kill. It just so happened that the Guatemalan army had just received 2 howitzer cannons and wanted to test fire them. They randomly aimed them across the mountain range and landed two mortar shells between the advancing rebels and the parishioners thus sending the rebels fleeing and thereby abandoning their pursuit.

Some villages suffered worse than others. In the village of Chiul the church members were all women. They had all lost their husbands. At this location a church was built but the floor was clay. When we arrived the women were inside the church using picks and mallets to break up the hard clay and compact it. They would spend hours hauling water on their heads to be added to the concrete mix.

With our four days up, it was time to say goodbye to our gracious host the McCoombs and the guys from Living Word Community Church. I had made the choice the night before that we would gamble on an 8 hour car ride through a mountainous region of Guatemala that suffers from mudslides versus the sure bet of a 14 hour ride bringing us through Guatemala City. We were up for a 7am farewell breakfast with the group and then off for an 8 hour car ride across some of the most beautiful real estate in the world. Nothing but lush mountains everywhere you looked and the Mayan people dressed in their bright colored native garb.

The return trip was not without its memories. On three occasions we were stopped or diverted around festivities by the Mayans showing the Spaniards conquest of them by the Conquistadors. We also suffered a delay from a flat tire being punctured by a razor sharp rock on a mountainous road. The last but not the least memorable part of the return trip was the viewing of the aftermath of a massive mudslide. A whole mountain face almost half a mile in width and a mile downward was gone. The road that was once there was still buried under a mudslide that took the lives of at least 37 people in January of this year. No one really knows how many may be buried in the mud. It was a sad feeling looking over the devastation but comforting knowing that our God is in control.

Back Breaking Work!

2009-05-14T15:03:00.000-07:00

Back Breaking Work

The construction of the mission house on the Rio Dulce River is taking shape. From mid-March thru the latter part of April four teams have been helping with the project, each team spending anywhere from one to two weeks. Three teams were Canadian and one was from New York. By the time we had gotten on the job the support post had already been set. What a feat it was with out the use of modern equipment. A platform was constructed on top of the post and 120 sandbags weighing 100 lbs each were loaded on the platform. The workers would then also get up on the platform and start jumping until the post would settle. The sandbags would then be unloaded, a new column formed and poured, and a few days later the sandbags and laborers would be loaded on the platform and a new post would go down. With the four teams we have completely poured the first floor consisting of 5000 square feet. We sifted the sand and wheel barrowed it with rock and cement mix into the building. After running the electrical and plumbing we became manual cement mixers. The walls are now about head high. The teams have all been incredible and unique. Many suffered from heat exhaustion and diarrhea during the stay but all bounced back to finish what they had started. The New York team consisted mainly of young women and was surprisingly impressive. They faced large spiders and roaches, coral snakes, and a pesky frog that was so large you could only pick it up with two hands, which one of the girls did and pretended to kiss it to bring forth a prince. They worked through the heat alongside the men with smiles on their faces all day.

Each team would also make a three to four hour boat trip to visit one or two villages on the river. They carried badly needed school supplies and according to the reception by the kids also badly needed candy. We worked on the corn grinder, put a new handle on the well, and discussed the upcoming project of expanding the school. On the most recent trip, our long time doctor friend, Dr. Gene, and his wife Arlene, would host a medical clinic for both villages before heading with me and the kids to tend to the sick in the mountains. Gene and Arlene are truly amazing individuals. For the past 11 years they have been with us helping the sick. At age 75 with most of his colleagues on the golf course he has found a better use of his time helping the sick in third world countries.

We have been here six weeks now running back and forth from the river to the mountains. Every trip up the mountain my truck is loaded with needed concrete, nails, food, medicine, and other assorted needed items. David and Alfredo, the caretakers of the mission, have done an exceptional job in our absence. They have bagged thousands of new coffee plants, continued work on a house for Alfredo and his family, prepared and planted numerous plots around the mission with a variety of experimental vegetables, repaired the green house, just to mention a few of the projects.

Pastor Manalo always has a great message and the church attendance has been good. It is a shame he will be leaving us in June. There is a two fold problem, his family does not want to be this isolated and his wife is a large woman and could not walk in this terrain. Please say a few prayers that God provides a good replacement.

Mixed in with the work, fellowship, worship and praise, we’ve jumped off water falls, swam through under water rock formations, caught a couple coral snakes, even ate one of them, surfed a few days in Salvador, and had a couple visits from Zacapa’s death squad. The death squad is Zacapa’s method of ridding itself of individuals that live in areas that are isolated and where there is no law present. It is an efficient way of purging the undesirables. The number and severity of complaints dictates how often the squad is dispatched. Nino and his sons were surely on that list. They are the very worst of the thieves and have stolen many times from the mission. The six assassins had taken a position above the house at night and fired nearly 500 shots through the aluminum roofing. They also dropped a grenade into the house but in their excitement hadn’t fully pulled the pin. Nino’s fifteen year old son took a bullet in the stomach. He was sporting a very nasty crooked scar where the doctors in Zacapa had experimented with opening him up. It was two weeks later when he was up in the mountain having Dr. Gene look at the wound.

The kids and I will be escorting Chelsea and Travis, my sister Rocky’s kids, up to Nebaj next week. We will be helping start 4 churches in 4 days. The elevation at the villages will range between 8,000 and 10,000 ft. This high altitude area of Guatemala is absolutely beautiful. I was there a year earlier with a few farmers from Pinalito getting lessons on growing ponytail palms from a missionary buddy of mine and one of his pastors. I can’t wait to share this part of Guatemala with my kids.

It's Great to feel Good Again!!

2009-03-16T19:32:00.000-07:00

it is great to feel good again

The first 8 days in Guatemala my body ran through a gambit of aches and pains. At first, I attributed it to a cold and sleeping on a hard floor for several nights after we arrived on the 4th. An aggravating sinus headache and stiffness could easily have been a cold but as the days progressed the symptoms changed to slight fever, alternating joints hurting, stomach cramps, my body hurting to the touch, and finally concluding with diarrhea. It was the morning of this final stage that I was to hike with one of the farmers to inspect the ponytail palms we had planted on a previous trip. I had put off the hike the day before and went into town to pick up our food, propane for the school, and fertilizer and fungicide for the farmers.

The morning was here and there were no more excuses. All I could think was ‘this is not going to be fun’. The trail to David’s farm is very steep and slippery and David is part mountain goat so there is no slowing him down. Even on my best days I’m panting to keep up with him. About three fourths of the way to the top I felt as if I would toss my cookies but I pushed on as David was now out of sight.

The nausea passed as I came to a reprieve in the climb and reached a more level stretch of trail. Once at the top, it was amazing to see how far the ponytail palms stretched up and down the ridges. Even more incredible was the thought of how anyone could have planted anything on this unfriendly terrain. David, making good use of the land, had even planted beans in between the palms. Unlike David, I was doing everything I could to keep from sliding down and taking out a row of trees. On the way back I stopped to see Gregorio and Rufino. Years before FIA had provided the villagers with coffee plants for them to earn an income. They were free to consume it or sell it to whomever they chose. I had Rufino roast 15 lbs for me.

A special thanks to Jack Norman Jr who spent countless days under assault by biting insects and the long sharp thorns of 5,000 citrus plants as he pruned them one by one. The citrus plants are all a deep luscious green and ready for grafting. Dwight, an American that moved here over 20 years ago with the peace corps and now has a fruit farm, called and is excited about helping me get some bud material to start the grafting. I want a different type of citrus to diversify the local market. Dwight feels he might be able to find Naval oranges and tangerines. Neither of these is available in this area. With 5,000 trees ready to be grafted this could really help bring an income to these people.

It was refreshing to come back to the mission and find things in not just good, but GREAT shape. David and Alfredo, the two new caretakers at the mission, are doing an outstanding job. They’ve trimmed the coffee, citrus, and banana plants, removed weeds, and mulched. Usually my worms for vermiculture are nearly all dead when I return. This was not the case this time. The worms are fat and happy. This is great news since I have a missionary couple from Honduras that will be picking up worms to take back in order to start vermiculture for their farmers. We are in the process of converting available space around the mission into vegetable gardens. We will continue to experiment with different vegetables with the most nutritional value.

Cassidy was very excited when I told her I was looking for a calf. David has a young bull. We will partner and raise calves for sale. In the meantime, they can keep the grass and weeds down around the mission as well as provide a source of fertilizer and pesticide. The manure can be added into the soil directly or fed to the worms and then added back to the soil. The urea is a great as a pesticide.

The clinic is busy as usual but with two less patients. Both Sophia and Tina had died while we were in the states. After placing Sophia in an elderly assisted living facility on our last trip, she was under the notion that the staff was fattening her up to eat her. Sophia ran away and came back up the mountain only to starve to death. Tina had come to me with headaches before we left for the states. I had given her medicine for her headaches but the underlying cause must have been more severe. She died a month before our return. When digging her grave the villagers uncovered the remains of 2 other deceased individuals. Tina’s body was simply placed in with the others and covered over.

We are seeing the usual ailments of colds, body aches, lice, and worms. The unusual problem was with Juana’s 2 month old girl that had puss coming from inside both her ears. We suctioned out her ears and flushed them with warm salt water followed by hydrogen peroxide and now she’s being treated with amoxicillin.

The church service was jam packed Sunday morning. Manalo started off with a message from Luke with Jesus instructing them to allow the little children to come to Him. He did this with in the front of church with Julio and his wife Juana as they presented their two month old daughter in a church dedication. Various members came up front to take the microphone and lead in worship songs for the next hour. This was concluded with Manalo again preaching, this time from Galatians 5:16-26 on the fruits of the Holy Spirit. Each fruit was represented by a drawing that Manalo would elaborate on. At the end of service, the bags of shoes we had drug in the night before were handed out to the villagers.

After church, I had several of the farmers follow me to the apartments. I have seeds that I wanted them to try out. One is a hardier tomato resistant to pests. The other is a mammoth sugar pea that I grew last year. The pods are 4 inches long. The peas were very sweet and nutritious and can be eaten right from the garden. Hopefully they will like them and we can incorporate them into their diet. We’ve started a list of other vegetables such as cauliflower and cabbage and I’ll pick up seeds for them later next week.

The first week here has been good. As I finish this my kids are having a water fight with the natives. They are all laughing and screaming and soaked to the bone. I’m choked up as I reminisce about how truly blessed we are that God would use us here in this village. God is GREAT!!!!!!

Thanks 'Bread of Life'

2008-11-04T13:16:00.000-08:00

Bejilio

In the past we have pretty much given out clothes when we would arrive in the mountains. The founder of ‘The Bread of Life’, Mark Anthony, had inspired me to try a different approach with the clothes. I discussed with Pastor Manolo, with the help of Nathan, the possibility of a village meeting where the Pastor would explain the clothes hand out after he preached. Afterwards Nathan and I would brew of pots of fresh coffee. Dylan, Cassidy, and Austin would add the sugar and serve the brew. The plan was to meet at 7am the following morning. After a day’s work on the road everyone would return to the mission. Everyman that worked would receive 3 tickets and boys would receive 2. Each type of clothing had a ticket value. The jackets, sweaters, and shoes were each worth one ticket while two pair of pants or shirts could be gotten for a single ticket. The day produced over 30 hard working volunteers.

The next morning was spent separating clothes and matching shoes. Before the handout was to start I had a visit from my 102 year old neighbor, Bejilio. He and his wife are too old to work and have been left with several grandchildren to care for. These kids had been abandoned by there parents who left them to pursue relationships with other people. It was cold out and he was wearing no jacket. He and his elderly wife would be the first to receive clothing.

By afternoon the men had come in and were lining up outside the clinic with tickets in hand. The distribution went pretty well except for of course that one disgruntled individual who tries to leave with three times as many clothes as he is suppose to choose.

The next day we invited the women and children to each come in and pick three articles of clothing apiece. This was followed by a second distribution to the men who had worked on the road, followed again by women and children until we were picked clean.

Hopefully a seed was planted, a seed was watered, and a harvest was had. Many of these people do not attend church and almost all are illiterate. They are held in bondage by their ignorance of God and the demonic practices of their ancestors. The only way to force feed them the word of God was using the method similarly utilized by ‘Bread of Life’------offering them something they need for eternal life (The Word) for something they need for temporal life (clothes). Though some were not happy with having to listen to a sermon, I believe this will be the standard for all future clothing distributions.

Let's kill Mom

2008-11-04T09:39:00.000-08:00

Sophia

In our society it is hard for us to imagine killing our Mother when she becomes old and can no longer contribute to the family. The situation is not the same with many of the families of these dysfunctional people. When a girl gets married the husband often refuses to take on any of her previous responsibilities. This includes any children from a previous man and her parents. Children from previous relationships are often given to the Grandparents to support. At this stage of their life the Grandparents are too old to work and may barely have enough food to support themselves. This sad story is told over and over again in these mountains. The names may change but the sad results are the same. This story has a name it is ‘Sophia’. I’ve written below about our interaction with her for the last two years.

We’ve added another daily responsibility. Her name is Sophia. When we arrived here we were told she had died. For the last two years Sophia was a daily presence at our doorstep. Her 4 daughters had refused to feed her saying she was now old and useless to them. Everyday we would prepare a meal and a care package for her. Now we had a young woman at our door asking us to come with her. Her mom was very sick and weak. Upon arriving at the hut we realized it was Sophia. She was not dead but she was a skeleton of what we had left in June. She was reduced to skin over her bones. The remnants of malnutrition had left her stomach bloated the size of a basketball and her feet swollen. Daily we have become a version of ‘meals on wheels’ we call ourselves ‘meals on foot’. Each day we bring her a warm vitamin drink called encaparina. Along with the drink she receives a couple bananas or oranges and oatmeal, tuna or PBJ sandwich. The trail is narrow and steep leading to the hut. Every trip puts me in awe at how this old lady for the last two years was able to walk to our apartments for her food.

It has been several weeks since we’ve started caring for Sophia, though her strength is better, a noticeable swelling is moving up her legs. Michael has been on the Rio Dulce preparing for teams coming in to help build a mission house there. He has finally made it back to Pinalito and is going with me to check on Sophia. A decision has been made that Nathan, Alli, and I will drive her to the hospital the following morning. When morning comes I grab a hammock to make a stretcher to carry Sophia to the road, but she is too proud and walks with the support of Nathan and myself. Trying to leave the mission is surrounded with drama as the eldest daughter comes running to the truck blatantly mad that her mother is being carried off to the hospital. Evidently having to start over trying to kill her was not in her plans.

Upon arriving at the hospital we all share a light chuckle as Sophia is asked her age by the doctor. We know what her response will be. Even though she is one of the oldest villagers, probably in her 90’s, here she still claims her age is 40. Again this was her stance, leaving a look of amazement on the doctor’s face. The doctor believes the swelling of both her stomach and legs will be cured with proper nutrition but will keep her for observation for several days.

God’s timing and planning is so cool to see in action. Though complaining for being stranded off the mountain top for weeks and for the numerous repairs required by our trucks God used this time to put certain key people in our path. We met Danny after a day spent working on the road before once again having to retreat down the mountain. That morning we had a tire repaired on the truck and remounted. We had just got to the section of the road where we could disengage the 4 wheel drive. We left a van appearing to be a taxi goes ahead of us with an unusual looking driver. He was obviously American. I thought how queer it was to have an American driving a shuttle bus in Guatemala. It wasn’t long before we passed him on the windy mountain road and I got another glance to confirm my theory. He was definitely American. By the time we arrived at the bottom of the mountain our truck was making a strange rattling noise so we pulled over to look for the problem. The tire had not been securely fastened and the nuts were working themselves loose. A few minutes later the van parks behind us and we meet Danny. He is a 27 year old from Michigan who is part of an outreach program that currently host 8 doctor teams a year. Their mission is a couple hours from ours and is complete with an orphanage. They also have two buildings in the Zacapa hospital complex with one of them a nutrition center. This is exactly where I will need to place Sophia after her three days in the hospital. God’s planning is Amazing Perfect!!!! It serves again as a reminder that all things work for the best and He is in control.

Her name is Joestina

2008-11-01T14:57:00.000-07:00

Her name is Joestina

Her name is Joestina. Her mother died in childbirth before we left in June this year Nikoli, the father, has come by to talk. He will be away working in Esquipulas and will not be returning for 1½ months. He has 5 children with the oldest around 8 years old. . This 8 year old daughter will be left behind to take care of her 4 siblings who include this malnourished 5 month old baby weighing only 6 ½ lbs. We have stressed to Nikoli that his daughter cannot properly take care of the baby and she would most likely die if we didn’t help. He has agreed to allow us to care for her.

We are totally unprepared for caring for an infant. There are no diapers so we cut up bed sheets instead. Within 6 hours both Cassidy and Joestina have changed their clothes 3 times. This thin fabric is no match for the frontal attack this infant constantly engaged in. We’ve found plenty of diapers for grown-ups but none for kids. (This was a misunderstanding a well intentioned group had brought to us when we requested diapers). With a small scirrors the design team of Cassidy and me undertake the task of modification. One of these diapers is almost twice the size of Joestina. After several failed attempts we’ve come up with an ingenious design that yields three diapers for one. We only have one medium safety pin, so the means of holding the ends together relies on surgical tape that is probably 5 years old. The adhesiveness is questionable at best. A diaper may fall apart and its contents strewn with any mishandling of the baby. The utmost delicacy is the order of protocol since near tragic consequences have been around every corner.

It is now 2 weeks later and Joestina is weighing 7lbs 10 ounces. She is getting strong and can now hold her head up. She is smiling and constantly eating and pooping.

The Fifth Attempt

2008-10-14T16:27:00.000-07:00

The Fifth Attempt

We’ve made it back up the mountain. I guess the fifth attempt is the magical one. All in God’s timing. A special thanks to all the prayer warriors who made this possible.

It wasn’t long before the mountain knew the missionaries were back. Julio is at our apartment door at 9pm with a stomach ache and in want of prayers. At 6am I’m sitting at my table reading. By 7am the dogs are barking and my first visitor from the neighboring village, Mantasano, is heading up the stairs of the apartments. Portfilio is suffering from back pain and has a constant squint on his face, not so much from the pain but from poor eyesight. He is in dire need of glasses. I will help him with the pain now and will search my resources in Guatemala to find when an eye doctor will be in the area. By 8:30am a string of woman with their children are lined up across the front of the apartments. We have children and parents with worms, fevers, diarrhea, colds, stomach aches, and back pains. There are families in need of shoes, soap, shampoo, vitamins, and toothpaste. The kids and I will spend into early afternoon in the clinic dispensing of needed items. After lunch Cassidy and I will now gather baby blankets and several change of clothes to welcome the two newborns of the village. By mid-afternoon Cassidy and I are on our last house call to visit the baby whose mother had died in childbirth several weeks before we returned home in June. Nikoli, the father, is no where to be found. His 8 year old daughter with his 5 year old son is with the baby. This 4 month old baby is so tiny. All three of these siblings are covered with dirt. The baby is sucking on a bottle that has small bugs floating in a milky liquid. As I suspected the nipple is crusted almost shut. It is no surprise that she has diarrhea. Cassidy gathers the baby and we all head back to the clinic in search of clothes for the three children and milk and a new bottle for the baby. From there it is off to the apartment to clean the bottle and use Dylan’s mastery of the Spanish language to iterate the importance of keeping the bottle clean. The children request sugar. This is a perfect chance for bribery. If the children bring Nikoli back I’ll give them the sugar. The plan is to talk Nikoli into allowing the baby to stay with us to get her healthy.
Everyone who reads this blog has an assignment of saying a few prayers that Nikoli will be in favor of us taking care of his baby.

Another Angel in Heaven

2008-09-29T18:57:00.000-07:00

Another Angel in Heaven

We’ve been told upon arriving in Guatemala City that it would be impossible to make it up the mountain. The rain clouds surround the city and we scramble to find plastic to cover our luggage in the back of the truck. We drive as far as Teculatan to get directions and a phone number for nuns that have a nutrition center in San Jose. There is no need to drive any further it would be both dangerous and fruitless to head up the mountain tonight.

There is urgency in our desire to make it to Pinalito. One of Pula’s daughters is very weak. The parents have refused to allow Nathan to bring her to the hospital in Pinalito. The thought is if she were to die off the mountain her spirit could not find its way back.

It rained quite a bit last night but we are hoping that by afternoon the roads will have ample time to dry. Thursday morning will be spent picking up groceries and supplies for the mission and Pula’s daughter. Nathan and Dylan would fill the propane tanks while Cassidy, Austin, and I drive ahead to our rendezvous place at the river. During the rainy season we must come up the backside of the mountain. The distance is twice as long and a riverbed serves as part of the road. The tremendous amount of rain this year had shifted the riverbed. Cassidy, Austin, and I would spend nearly an hour walking the river searching out deep holes and removing large rocks while waiting for Nathan and Dylan. The river crossing was tight in spots but we made it through fairly easy. The real obstacles, a couple of miles further, would be the mud, washouts, and fallen trees. We would spend hours trying to get past a 50 foot patch of mud. At first we shoveled fresh dirt on top of the mud, next we tried to dig out the mud—but there was no bottom, finally we chopped branches, shrubs, and used several planks of wood for tracks but all to no avail. My dodge truck is making a clanking noise and the 4 wheel drive is slipping. My mud chains were unnoticeable under the thick mire covering the tires. Both were missing. Dylan stumbled upon one of them in a deep trench left behind by one of the many attempts. The second chain we found wrapped around the inside rear axle. It was now 5:30. It was starting to sprinkle and soon it would be dark. With my 4 wheel drive now in question it was time to turn back. We managed to turn around. I would only engage the 4 wheel when there was no other choice for fear of either sliding off the mountain or into the face of it. On the other side of the river I had Dylan and Nathan takes my flashlight and see if they can locate the source of the noise. There is nothing obvious. Deciding to continue on, Dylan and Nathan go back to Nathan’s truck still parked in the river only to find the battery dead. Nathan will stay with the truck as we drive to several villages searching for jumper cables. There are no cables to be found. Nathan will spend the night in the river. Par for the trip that night will include a torrential downpour most of the night. Friday morning Dylan and I locate cables and are off to rescue our fellow missionary. The roads that were questionable the day before were now terrible. It would require using the 4 wheel drive to even get close to Nathan. I engaged it expecting to hear the horrendous clanking but there was no sound. The 4 wheel drive worked perfectly. Five hours later we are back at the hotel with Nathan.

Friday evening again brought us rain. A Saturday attempt up the mountain would be useless. I had consumed over $80 in gas in the two trips to the mountain. It was time to fill up again. The beauty of this gas station was for another $3 I could have a couple of guys pressure wash my truck. Maybe I could take another look under the truck. Even though I did not discover the previous problem with the 4 wheel drive mechanism it was quite evident that my rear tires were torn to shreds from the rock. They were smooth and not much better than slicks. With new tires and the 4 wheel drive working fine, Sunday morning’s plan would be to drive up the other side of the mountain and hike in with the supplies for Pula’s daughter from the lower mission in Mantasano.

It is Sunday afternoon and I’m finishing this blog. We had loaded up infamil, peanut butter, honey and other supplies to give to Pula. I had just locked in the 4 wheel drive at the foot of the mountain and started to climb up the washout roads when the clanking came back with a vengeance. We turned back around and put the truck in 2 wheel drive but still the clanking continued. The new plan is to drive to the job site and continue the trip in Nathan’s truck. Nathan is finally able to reach a teacher named Max in Pinalito. We’ve been informed that Pula’s daughter had died last evening. Everyone in the vehicle is stoic. I search Cassidy’s face and see tears forming in her eyes. It is just one more day in the lives of these people. There will be one more angel under the age of five added to the countless others watching over this forgotten part of the world.

Packing for Guatemala

2008-09-29T18:53:00.000-07:00

As we prepare for our return to Guatemala the kids and I are busy prioritizing our packing. Since winter will soon be upon us the shorts and short sleeve shirts will have to be taken on a future trip. Now the main concern will be warm clothes, shoes, seeds and baby formula. Since we have been back in the States we have been informed that someone has thrown rocks that have cracked the tile roof above our apartment creating a leak, cracked a solar panel, dug up a half dozen fence post concrete and all from around the mission, dug up 90 twenty foot sections of PVC pipe supplying water to two of the villagers, and finally broke into a lower apartments and stole our two baby parrots---Skittles and Pringles. These heartbreaks did not hold a candle to the news that Pula’s babies are doing poorly. The twins are less than two years old but their size is that of a child less than a year of age. They both have had diarrhea and have lost most of their hair. The smaller of the two is not eating and is of great concern. We are loaded down with baby formula and hope that will do the trick. The Father will not allow the baby to be brought to the hospital. The Indians are not treated well usually and are often neglected. If the formula does not work we will be left with no alternative but to convince the Father of the need or face another infant mortality on the mountain. We have been with this baby since she was born. Cassidy and Chelsea, every Sunday would bath the twins while Pula prepared herself for church. It would be a sad day for all of us but one that is all too familiar to the parents on this mountain where each family normally experiences the loss of two of their children before the age of five.

FIA WELCOMES ECHO

2008-08-04T09:04:00.000-07:00

FIA welcomes ECHO

This last trip, though short, was such a blessing to be apart of. I rendezvoused with three incredibly knowledgeable men with hearts for helping the malnourished. The first individual was Danny Blank. I had met with Danny several times earlier in the year. He is the farm manager for ECHO out of Ft Meyers, Fl. The visits were in search of ideas to overcome the malnourishment issues in Central America. ECHO being an organization that offers international agricultural technical support for people working with the poor seemed like the obvious choice. The second individual, Keith Hess, is a former ECHO employee specializing in reforestation in such areas as Africa, Haiti, and through out Central America. He had braved several chicken buses from Salvador and met us in Zacapa. The last of the trio, Dwight Carter, we would meet up with several days later on the Rio Dulce River. Dwight was a colorful individual. In 1987 after four years in the Peace Corps he had settled on 20 acres of land off the Rio Dulce River and now specializes in growing different fruits from around the world.

After picking up Danny from the airport, we (the Beenes, Josiah, Danny, and I) made our 3 hour drive to Zacapa where we met Keith and Nathan (a missionary with FIA). A call to Profa William, one of our teachers in Pinalito, made it clear that there was no possible way of heading up at night. The constant rain had the roads a slippery muddy mess and some trees were down. We would wait until the light of the morning and only those needing to go up would make the trip. This meant leaving Rocky, Chelsea, and Travis behind. Those going up would include Danny, Keith, Mike, Nathan, Josiah, Tiffany, and me.

As we approached the first road repair, Danny jumping from the back of the truck twisted his ankle. My heart sank since almost everything we needed to see would involve hours upon hours of rigorous hiking. We would have to hike steep muddy narrow trails with intermittent rocks thrown in as obstacles. We would be crossing swamps via slippery logs. We would have to tromp through suction type mud that would grab your shoes and not let go. I felt there was no possible way Danny would be up for the painful challenge. Thank God I didn’t know Danny very well. I was completely wrong!!!!!

The road repair would continue all the way up the mountain. The next 4 miles from the base of the river would take almost 3 hours. Armed with shovels, a chain saw, machetes and a rope we would cut and drag fallen trees, fill in ruts with rocks, branches, and mud, rebuild a corner of the road washed away by a fast moving stream. Within 200 yards of the mission a mudslide had pushed a very large stump partially into the road. As the villagers pitched in to cut up the stump I took advantage of the time to try out Danny’s ankle by looking at projects at the mission. After an ankle wrap and with the aid of a walking stick surprisingly Danny was ready to go. With three thousand citrus trees ready for grafting, ECHO would be instrumental in helping me find the budding material and grafting the trees. ECHO had provided seeds of various plants to experiment with. The spinach and mammoth pea plants had grown exceptionally well. Just as important as the plants being able to grow is the importance of the plants being tasteful to the villagers. Both plants had high marks in both categories. The moringa trees were a different story. I explained to Danny they were in my seed bed when a cyclone lingered off Honduras for 10 days. Consequently the plants stayed way too wet. Only a handful of the 28 seeds took. I believe in the potential of this plant. The nutritional value especially to those with the highest mortality rate---the newborn through age 5 is unmatched by other plants. It can be fed to nursing mothers and passed to their children through their milk or can be consumed directly. My plans are to buy more seed and try again during the dry season. This time we will plant each seed in an individual bag until they are 6-12 inches tall. The last of the plants we inspected were the bananas, coffee, and macadamia trees.

After a quick lunch, I made a formal introduction of my parrot (Pringles) to my next door neighbor David’s daughter, Maribel. David and Manuel would lead us to David’s farm and then up higher to the outskirt of the rainforest where we have macadamia trees. With Pringles, my baby parrot, on my shoulder and Danny with his walking stick we embark on the steep climb. This would not be easy on his ankle but he wasn’t complaining. After a 40 minute walk Keith and Danny are wading through a maze of young corn plants heading toward a makeshift shade area under which lies thousands of Pony Tail Palm trees. This is an experimental cash crop that we have partnered with several farmers A little further down the hill is a single Spanish Cedar sapling that at only 2 years old is over 30 feet tall. A stream at the bottom of the hill provides a seed bed for a number of Spanish Cedars and other plants. With a good idea of the farming terrain Danny and Keith are ready to head further up the mountain and toward the edge of the rainforest.

The macadamia farm is one of the favorite places for the village kids to visit. Broken shells are seen around the base of the trees as the kids have feasted on the nuts. The protein provided by the nuts far exceeds that of any meat product. Though they don’t have the money for meat a hike to this location can provide all the protein they need during harvest. It is now 5:30, in an hour it will be dark. Rain clouds have appeared over the mountain. It is starting to drizzle. Even though there is a full moon the descent would not be easy without everyone having a flashlight. It is time to go.

The next morning has each of us taking his turn with axe in hand chopping once again on that massive stump. Once we are clear of the stump we are off to Dwight’s fruit tree farm and the lowlands along the Rio Dulce River. It has been thirteen years since FIA started the river ministry. Just as the ministry in the mountains this outreach would not be easy to get to. FIA searches out those people that are isolated and have little or no resources available to them. Most have never seen a missionary and no nothing of the Love of Jesus for them.

(I imagine this is a good place for a side note to state that those who work with FIA should not expect to work at a place that is inundated with a church on every corner. Our mission is not to bring the message or help where it is already available. It is to go where no missionary has gone before -----and yes we are always looking for a few good men/women)

It seems as if everything must be a three hour trip and so this is no different. The roads are windy. Most vehicles especially the semis have trouble getting out of their own way. Being stuck behind one of these turtles, of which there are many, can turn a 100 mile drive into a 5 hour ordeal. Nearly two and one half hours into the trip we are slowed to a stop to come across a common sight. There is a traffic accident that has just happened minutes before our arrival. The usual culprit is a minibus taxi trying to pass around a blind curve. So it is this time with a taxi off the side of the road with a smashed front end. On the other side of a road sits a small red truck with its front completely smashed in. The engine sits in the driver side seat. On the road is a lone paramedic who is putting the legs of a small boy together who lies face down in his own puddle of blood. He has been thrown from either the back of the pick-up or out the window of the taxi. He is lifeless with the back of his head crushed flat. Danny, Keith, and I once engaged in conversation fall silent as we say a prayer knowing there is nothing to be done.

We are only 10 kilometers from Dwight’s. He will meet us off the main road to lead us back to his property. Dwight has tropical fruit of all varieties. Some of the fruit looks like something from another planet. There is fruit that hangs from the branches, fruit that is growing directly off the trunk and even fruit growing just out of the ground at the base of the tree. Big fruit, little fruit, spiky fruit, colorful fruit------you name it Dwight grows it!!!! After a supper of beans, tortillas, hot chilies, and noodles I found a hammock under the tin overhang of the rustic intern house. The night air was still, hot and muggy. It was too hot to sleep indoors. Around midnight a loud clap of lightening was followed with a torrential downpour. The temperature instantly dropped 20 degrees as the stickiness and heat of the tropical lowlands was quickly replaced by a cold night. I convinced myself that I was warm as I pulled the meshed netting of the hammock over my shivering body and fell back asleep.

After a breakfast of fresh local coffee, hardboiled eggs, beans, tortillas, and noodles we were off for an hour and half boat ride to the remote village of Castulo. Dwight had brought several samples of fruit for the villagers to sample. The Jack fruit is a strange looking fruit the size of a small watermelon. It grows off of all parts of the tree from the roots, the trunk, or off the branches. Keith was carrying this to the village following Josiah. Twice the young missionary, Josiah, would fall in the mud. His choice of shoes-----crocs------were an accident waiting to happen in this muddy terrain. I had made the same mistake a trip earlier when bringing a medical team from Time Square Church to the village while wearing my crocs. I thought they were the shoe of choice but found myself walking barefoot after only several hundred yards into the trek.

The fruits were enjoyed by the women and children of the village. The men were out working and missed the sampling. We discovered that each extended family farms together so we hiked to two of the representative farms. The farmed properties are in the hills above the wetlands to allow for drainage. Here, as for most of the family farms in Guatemala, the major crop grown is corn for tortillas. What is different in Castulo is they also raise ducks and turkeys for meat. With my three experts having seen the needs an evaluating the growing conditions it was time to say goodbye and watch Josiah one more time fall in the mud. (Sad as it is I was excitedly anticipating Josiah’s fall. As he approached the muddy log my camera was on ready for a prize winning shot).

The next step when we return in September will be a meeting with the farmers in the different locations to discuss their agricultural and nutritional concerns-------thanks Danny for the input. As Danny reminded me of what I had read in the book ‘Two ears of corn’ by Roland Bunch the farmers have to be part of the solution. It can not just be the gringo’s idea and project. Those projects fail shortly after the support leaves no matter how good they may be. The farmers have to be involved every step of the way.

Part of the process will include taking the farmers to Dwight’s fruit farm and have them sample different fruits. With Dwight’s expertise he will educate them on which fruits will grow on their farms. He will also teach grafting and tree care. I’ll be praying for funding to allow each family to have 4 trees.

In the mean time Danny will continue to help with the selection of different plants Once it is determined what can be grown the next step is to test the villager’s palate for them.

Keith will be instrumental in reforestation. It is an ongoing problem since wood must be harvested everyday for cooking. Currently FIA is experimenting with Echo’s idea of using methane gas from cow manure to cook and thereby eliminating the need of stripping the forest. With Keith and Danny we would like to come up with a viable solution to stop the erosion with the use of trees that can later be harvested for money.

A many thanks to Danny Blank and Keith Hess from ECHO. Also thanks to their boss Stan Doerr who allowed them to come. Thanks to Dwight Carter of Frutas Del Mundo for his hospitality and the heart and vision to help the impoverished.

There is a lot that needs to be done and a lot of prayers that need to be said and answered. I feel that we’ve just made it to first base thanks to the help of God’s perfect plan

The Casket

2008-07-01T07:01:00.002-07:00

When I last saw Nickoli with this look on his face he was carrying his 3 year old daughter to me. Juana, his wife, was smashing corn for tortillas and their little girl had got her finger terrible smashed during the process. The tip of her finger lay split in two and flat and bloody. Now something was terribly wrong with Juana. He described her symptoms of fever and cramps. She had not eating for the last 8 days. She was too sick to be brought to the clinic. I was preparing a bag of medicines to bring to her while Nathan was getting soup. Word came that she was deteriorating fast. We dropped everything to follow Nickoli. As we entered the dark smoke filled hut we stepped over a smoldering log left by her cot. There Juana lay wrapped in a blanket groaning but not able to communicate. There was some sort of leaves that were stuffed in her ears, up her nose and sprinkled on her body and bed. Was this witchcraft? She had no fever in fact her body was on the cool side. Her eyes didn’t respond to the flashlight. She stared blankly through dilated pupils. As I glanced around the hut Nickoli and their 4 children were crying. The oldest girl, no older than 9, is holding a newborn baby. A quick thought of dejavu. I was in this same situation with three young children only 6 years earlier but this time I was the Nikoli watching as my wife, the mother to my kids died in front of us. I fought back tears as I questioned weather this newborn was Juana’s. It was. The baby was only a day old. Now the symptoms were making sense but it was too late. The placenta probably didn’t fully discharge but there was no blood to be found anywhere. The hospital and prayer were our only alternatives. As Nathan was preparing to carry her to my truck, Juana frothed from her mouth as she took her last breath. Quickly one of the villagers took some sort of liquid to sprinkle on her face. They started blowing in her face. A dark black liquid streamed from her nose and mouth. As I started chest compressions again I was reminded of my attempt to save my wife with CPR. With each compression black fluid poured from the mouth and nose of Juana. Her eyes were like when I first arrived------a blank stare. It had been less than 20 minutes since we arrived in this hut. The tempo of the wailing increased as everyone realized it was over. Nathan and I spent the next hour holding and crying with the kids. The oldest daughter brought the baby to me concerned how she would feed him. I assured her of milk. Cassidy and I emptied our cupboard and returned with all of our rice, beans, and infant milk for the family. The feeling of too little-----too late swept over us, but what could have been done? Somberly we walked back to the mission to start the process of building a casket. When returning with the casket Nikoli asked if we could provide him with a chicken. His father and Grandfather had been witchdoctors. I’m not sure of Nikoli’s intentions but being uncomfortable with the request we refused. It is a shame. I would have had no problem buying a family a bucket of chicken in the states. That same luxury does not exist in the mountains of Guatemala. The intention of a chicken in this area of the world can be for a totally different purpose than filling hungry bellies. The loyalties sway from the old familiar ways of witchcraft to the newly introduced Christianity. They struggle to hold on to both religions not sure who has the greater power-------the Prince of Darkness or the Prince of Light

2008-05-11T19:30:00.000-07:00

The Dark Side

It is hard for one to imagine that after more than 2000 years that the ancestral Mayan religious practices of witchcraft would still be present on this mountain. Over a year ago I wrote of a witch doctor that stood in the back of church during our revival casting spells on the attendees. The true and tested music system would fail. The perfectly working generator would sputter and quit. Screws from an extension chord would mysteriously back themselves out of their threaded holes while still plugged in. Now, almost a year later, this little old man is in the front of church reading from his bible. He has announced there is no happiness in his old life. He has given his life to Christ. What is interesting in this story is the choreographed chain of events leading the old man to God. You see several weeks prior to this there is a man in church with a skin disorder that has left half his body normal while inflicting an albino disorder on the other half. I’m not sure how long he has had this disorder but it has at least been several years. He has been praying for a healing. The following Sunday he is in the front of church crying uncontrollably. He has been healed. Now with baby soft, clear skin he is giving his testimony and thanks to God. He is the son of the witch doctor.

It is now Mother’s Day 2008. A lady has been praying and giving her testimony for over 30 minutes. She has been a member of the church but had only given up witchcraft 13 months ago. The stories here parallel those of the bible. These people like God’s Chosen People worshipped God, as well as, idols. They try to leave nothing to chance. They forget that our God is a jealous God. This past week her young son was attacked by a drunk with a machete and was cut. Instead of having spell casts on the drunk or having her husband get revenge she prayed that he would overcome his drinking addiction and find Christ. Through her tears there was compassion and forgiveness and not the revenge of old.

Little by little the Devil’s foothold on this mountain is failing!!!!

Thanks for the prayers and support!!!!

Isote Trip

2008-04-18T19:45:00.000-07:00

Mid-January 2008

isote trip

It is supposedly the dry season but the rain has paid no attention to what is ‘supposed to be’. Rain and cold has been in the cards for the last three days and the roads are a muddy mess. Jaime, a missionary from Matazano, has hiked in to spend the night. Tonight after supper he is teaching Dylan the chords on the guitar, as well as, several Spanish worship songs. I’ve climbed up in my top bunk and listen to their strumming as I try to get some sleep. At 4am a group of 7 of us and a load of oranges are scheduled to meet at my apartment to head down the mountain. The plan is to drop off the oranges with the family at the market in Zacapa and the rest of us will continue for another 6 hours on the road. Jaime will serve as navigator to an isote farm in the rain forest near Coban. Once there he will be my translator in communicating between the farmers. With the constant sound of rain on the window sleep doesn’t come easy. I toss over in my mind how best to prepare for the dangers of the road. In the morning I’ll have to load an extra shovel, some rope, a couple rain suits, an extra mud chain, along with some wire and wire cutters to help hold the chains snug. At 3:30am I am up with coffee going. I’ve have had little sleep and the rain is coming down harder. By 4:15 we decide to wait until mid-morning in order to give the roads a chance to dry. It is now 1:30 in the afternoon and the rain has stopped. If we are going to go we have to try now. With it now mid-January none of the missionaries have returned from the states so I’ll be leaving Dylan, Cassidy, and Austin alone at the mission for several days. I pray there are no emergencies that arise. Dylan has already left with shovel in hand carrying a backpack loaded with pipe and other plumbing supplies preparing for the hour hike up into the rain-forest to fix the water supply with Julio. With hard rains such as we have just had branches and other debris clog the line and must be removed in order for any water to be had in the village. Sometime in the middle of the night we lost our water. We had barely left the mission when the rain started once again. I recalled Dylan was not wearing any raingear when he left. I knew it would be freezing where he was heading and even more so in these nasty conditions. It wasn’t long before we had our first encounter with a mud patch and found ourselves sliding in different directions. It was time for Jaime and I to get in the mud and install the chains. The next half hour would have us sliding toward the edge of a cliff followed by us sliding nearly into the wall of the mountain. For those who live in Central Florida the feeling is similar to having your foot in the gas as you slide around the turns at the Lil 500 flat track. The consequences here are a little more drastic than sliding into one of the barrier tires lining the track. Here you can either find yourself over the cliff or into the side of the mountain. You have to accelerate whether on an incline or going into a decline, whether heading into the wall of the mountain or heading toward the edge of a cliff. It all surely seems abnormal but it is the only way to maintain some resemblance of control. The brakes are useless in the mud. By the time we’ve made it to the river most of the passengers are white knuckled.

Four hours later we have again left pavement behind and are on the clay and gravel roads that have been dynamited out of the side of the mountains leading a path through the rain forest. As we approach our destination it is nearly 10pm. We have come around a corner of the mountain to a spectacular view. The moon, the size of a basketball, is full and bright. It is at eye level and sitting on a pillow of clouds that it illuminates while perched between two mountain peaks. Only God could do something so beautiful!!!

Our host is Bart Biddle. He has spent the last 9 years preaching and converting the Indigenous peoples of this area. He has built a church with his house above it. A small generator noisily sputters on the second story. As we tromp through the mud and climb the outside stairs the clouds and the moon are now below us. The inside of Bart’s house is partially finished. An extension chord extends from the generator to inside the door where half a dozen other chords are plugged into it powering other lights (the words--- ‘fire hazard’ would serve as an understatement). Beside the bed there is a toilet that is connected to absolutely nothing. If you need the use of a bathroom Bart points outside about 50 feet down a muddy slippery slope to a two seat outhouse with its door hanging precariously off a post. There is no need for fans since even with the door closed there was a nice draft blowing through We grabbed mattresses and lay them on the floor. As I replay the ordeal of getting here I have to chuckle at the Man upstairs that pulls all the strings. If it wasn’t for all that rain I would have already finished here and have been heading back to Pinalito. As it now stood I would finish up early enough tomorrow with enough time to help my Brother Bart. It wasn’t long before we were all asleep.

The next morning I wake up and assess the situation. Now Bart is a tall former collegiate wrestler. He is nearly 2 heads taller than most of the Indians and as outdoorsy as the best of them. His surroundings mean little to him, but the following week his wife, Pam, will be leading a team of doctors from the states to stay at this very house. There is not much I can do about the plumbing. There are too many missing supplies. The outhouse will only make them appreciate their bathrooms at home that much more. But the fire hazard, I can remedy. Before I leave I’ll make sure we rig up some lights and outlets and remove the maze of extension chords. We won’t have to read in a Guatemalan newspaper of the Missionary Doctors that were burnt up at the Biddle home if I can help it.

It is time to sit down to a tortilla, bean, and egg breakfast. Marcus, a pastor and isote farmer, has graciously supplied the tortillas. He’ll be our teacher for the next 4 hours. David, one of the village farmers from Pinalito, and I take notes. Jaime interprets for me as we precede form one field to another. It wasn’t until after our training that I realized why God had postponed our trip. The timing and planning were not what I had laid out but His perfect plan would all make sense in another 24 hours. With it still being early in the day and the isote lesson over, Marcus asked us if we might look at a generator in a nearby village. He was hosting a revival that evening. On the way to the village he enlightened us on the Indians we were about to meet. Only one of the villagers spoke Spanish. The others spoke a unique Mayan dialect. Marcus explained that these same people, we were about to meet, a few years ago had threatened to light him on fire if he did not stop preaching. They had done the same to Bart. A particular time they had Marcus tied up for 18 hours while Bart and others prayed for his release. It sounded quite similar to the story of Peter in prison. The conclusion to the story was the village was now almost completely converted to Christianity and having a revival tonight. Marcus and Bart are now held in the highest regard. After fixing the generator, the gracious villagers sat us down to a feast of tamales, chicken soup, coffee and cookies. As we are saying our good-byes, we step aside as a parade of villagers haul large speakers and other bulky sound equipment up the same steep muddy slippery trail we are about to descend. It is pretty obvious that there footing was much better than ours. We would slip and slide and have fingers loaded with mud as we attempted to catch ourselves by grabbing at anything with the resemblance of sturdiness.

The rest of the day had the three of us pretending to be electricians as we wrestled to remove the maize of extension chords strewn across the Biddle home. That evening, Jaime and I would stay behind to read and get some rest while David and Bart attended the revival. Around midnight I was awakened to hear the excited voice of David returning from the revival. It had been the best revival he had ever attended. He was very inspired.

Bart is up early the next morning. On the way off the mountain, after replacing a flat tire, we would run into him standing in the river. The revival had produced a harvest of 12 converts who Bart was now preparing to baptize. All the rain delays had changed OUR plan of a quick trip into GOD’S plan. I smiled as I realized He did it again. His plan had been far superior to ours. God had brought the rain---- that caused the delays---- that allowed the three of us to remove Bart’s fire hazard. More importantly He used our hands to fix the generator that helped a revival harvest 12 new believers. It was just another confirmation of who is in control.

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Miracles

2008-04-03T05:35:00.000-07:00

Miracles

There was a time in my life, not that many years ago, that miracles were a thing that only were evident in the Bible. That statement is far from true today. As I’ve spent this past year with my kids in the remote impoverished areas of Guatemala I am able to reflect on the many experiences we have had. Our experiences like so many of the other missionaries we have met are inundated with miracles on a regular basis. It seems as you look to expand God’s Kingdom, God is constantly lending a helping hand. In a third world country like Guatemala where witchcraft, drug lords, and corruption abound it is easy to see the battle lines drawn. The ongoing battle has the demonic forces lined up on one side with God and His forces lined up on the other. The great thing is we as believers know who the final victor will be. It is great to be on the winning side.

My family and I will be returning to Guatemala, Monday April 7th. I want to thank everyone that has helped prepare us for the return trip. We will be loaded down with shoes, dental supplies, vitamins, solar equipment, seeds, and technology. We all feel recharged both spiritually and physically. Personally it was great to eat some ice cream and have a good steak!!!! The kids and I will be carrying a little more weight when we hit the mountain this trip. It won’t stay on for long!!! We also want to thank those that believe in what we are doing and are supporting us financially and in prayer. This would not be possible without everyone’s help. The last thing I want to leave you with is an open invitation to a life changing experience for you and your families. For those that want to take the challenge there is a disclaimer that I should include--------‘YOU WON’T RETURN THE SAME PERSON’.

God Bless,

Ron and Kids

Hello 2008

2008-01-21T15:56:00.000-08:00

The year 2007 is behind us and it is time to crank up 2008. It is January 3rd and we are back at the Guatemala City airport to pick up Patty Noverr and her two adopted Guatemalan boys, Douglas and Stephen. This is the first time they have been back to their native country since being adopted as young children. An eye-opening experience awaits them. They come bearing suitcases loaded with clothes from her church, Temple Terrace and an exceedingly generous gift from Tom and Tricia Jones to help buy what might be lacking. The following day as Cassidy and Patty sort clothes into different sizes, Dylan and Austin introduce Douglas and Stephen to the locals. The afternoon brings an anticipated horde of villagers to the clinic for the clothes hand out. Douglas and Stephen handle crowd control. The boys usher in three villagers at a time that are seated on a bench. The rest of the gang works on fitting them with shoes and clothing into the night.

The next day will be used as a school project for the boys. We have set aside the day to visit homes and take a hike to the sister mission in Matasana. The familys often live in groups with the parents, children, and grandchildren residing within yards of each other. The first such commune has dirty barefoot children peaking out from different structures, several lurk in an opening in the adobe hut while others are in the doorway of a bamboo hut. Chickens and young pigs run at will where ever they please. An 8 year old boy who is accompanying us wants us to go to his house and pray for his Grandmother. Upon arriving we are ushered into a dark adobe hut. On a small bed we see a frail old woman who has been severely beaten. One of her eyes is swollen shut and her cheek is badly bruised She explains her husband often beats her when he is drunk and refuses to let her have food or water. The boys stand guard and protect her while I run to get food and medicine. When I return, Patty has already confronted the husband who is now also inside the hut. After feeding and nursing the woman we have one more conversation with the husband before the long hike to Matasana.

It is January 10th , we’ve dropped off our guest and after a 6 hour drive from the city we’ve arrived back at the mission to find our solar was no longer working. The inverter had taken a bath when a hot water line coming from the propane water heater, affectionately known as the widow maker by the Guatemalans, had exploded several months ago. The inverter had been working erratically but now had given up the ghost. It would be candle power and flashlights to drag our tired bodies to bed.

The following day is spent working alongside my little buddy Minor. He is working off his taking of Cassidy’s purse and 170Q’s. Today we will remove worms from the castings to prepare organic fertilizer for the different agriculture projects. As I’m preparing lunch for Minor I can hear our normal lunch guest, Sophia, murmuring outside the door waiting her turn. This little old woman can eat more than most football players. I would love to match her against the Asian hot dog eating champ. She would be a sure bet. Not only will she eat you out of house and home but she carries a bag with her that she would also like filled. The day ends with Julio telling me that the new Pastors house has plumbing issues. With tomorrow being the day I’ll bring him and 6 other Pastors to the mission Dylan and I work into the night with Cassidy mopping up the floors the next morning.

The month of December

2008-01-19T14:48:00.000-08:00

The month of December

In order to recap the blur of activities since the last blog, we had gone to El Salvador in Early-December for a Latin American Pastor’s conference hosted by David and Gary Wilkerson of Times Square Church. David Wilkerson, as many may know had ministered to some of the most violent inner street gangs of New York City. That inspired his writing of ‘The Cross and The Switchblade” which also became a very popular play. The message at the conference was one of encouragement and non-complacency of the church leaders. Being invited backstage we talked with both David and his son, Gary. The senior would drop in and out of conversation as he intently scanned his bible searching for what the Holy Spirit would lead him to say in concluding the two day event. It would be a warning of the “Prosperity Gospel” preached by some church leaders in the United States now infiltrating the Latin Americas. The two men were very spirit filled individuals with a true compassion for the plight of the Latin American’s struggles. At checkout time, Michael handed me two crisp hundred dollar bills from David to offset my family expenses. My jaw dropped in disbelief that a man I had just met would be one of the first to support us in the mission field. Of course for you surfers out there you can’t leave El Salvador if you are a true surfer without surfing the world renowned Roca’s. The kids and I took a break and spent several days hitting the waves. It was a great week!!!! A great conference hosted by two premier men of God and great surf hosted by the Man himself!!!

It is now December 22rd. We are needed down on the jobsite to help prepare the second story floor for a concrete pour scheduled for December 24th. Time is running out and Michael and Rocky are needed to preside over a wedding. The Beene kids, my kids, William (the teacher from Pinalito), and I will work into the night cutting and hauling block to prepare the second floor for the pouring of concrete. There will be a full moon silhouetting the job site as we near completion.

It is December 23rd and we are going to spend the next three days in Guatemala City. It was great to see a few movies, have a tasty Christmas lunch, and just unwind. That is unwinding until the fireworks started on Christmas Eve. Fireworks are manufactured in Guatemala City and are very inexpensive. Everyone including ourselves had an arsenal. Late into the night and early in the morning there was a display of colorful rockets and mortars bursting in all directions. Firecrackers the strength of ¼ sticks of dynamite were exploding everywhere. If there were any veterans around the sights and sounds would induce a state of immediate shell shock.

The morning of December 26th, Cassidy, Austin, and I head back up to the mission to make sure everything is fine. We have left Dylan to accompany a youth team of 16 teenagers and 3 adults from Cashiers, North Carolina that would arrive later that day. Dylan and the team would spend several days tiling, grouting, and building cabinets for the dormitory. Early the morning of the 31st they head up the mountain to celebrate New Years with the villagers. The team breaks up in several groups heading off in different directions evangelizing. That evening a new arsenal of fireworks is introduced by the Youth Pastor, Michael Gonzalez much to the delight of the villagers. The villagers are served coffee and cookies as they keep an alert eye for the occasional misguided flying bombs.

Where's My Pillow!!!!

2007-12-16T12:33:00.000-08:00

December 9th

It rained most of the night last evening and sometime during that time the village lost its water supply. The water supply starts up at the rainforest with a reservoir. When there is a good rain, debris washes in and clogs the pipe. There would be no showers before church. The toilets would be flushed on a need be basis by utilizing water from the pila. The saying is ‘yellow let it mellow/brown flush it down’. Church would be out by 1:00 but we wouldn’t be able to enlist the help of the natives until close to 7 pm. That would mean hiking to the rainforest with flashlights, shovels, pvc pipe and glue in the black of night. It is a 1 ½ hour walk up steep slippery paths to get to the reservoir.

In the meantime Dylan has yelled for me from out in banana trees. There is something he is very excited about and wants me there quickly. It is an El Scorpio stuck in a huge spider web. The last and only time we had seen one of these was earlier this year in March; we had just got to the mountain and again it was Dylan who discovered him. On that occasion I had picked up what I thought to be a very large bright green lizard with a nasty disposition. I would toss it at the native kids and pretend to kiss it. The kids would scream and run and call me “Loco”. I did not realize that I had been playing with one of the most deadly reptiles in Guatemala. It spits poison in your eyes and its bite is deadly. This time I beat the El Scorpio with a bamboo stick and Dylan chopped in two with his machete.

We’ve finished supper and it is time to get ready to deal with the water issue.
Two of the natives, David and Julio, would accompany Koos, Scott (just in from Kentucky), Nathan, and myself up the mountain. While gathering the shovels a drizzle turned into a shower. “Just great, this was going to be one miserable night”, I chuckled to myself. We went back to gather our rain gear and met back at the church. David decided to recruit one more villager so we stopped at Goyo’s house. While David was trying to convince Goyo to come, someone was approaching holding a torch of pine lighter not. It was one of the young village women. She was sobbing and accompanied by several other villagers. Her husband, Alfonso, had been attacked with a machete by two men. . He was bleeding badly from his head, neck and arm. He had lost a lot of blood. The plan would be to have the men carry him to the clinic while the gringos prepared the clinic to stabilize him. Over and hour had gone by and the gringos look like expectant parents pacing in and out of the clinic, checking and rechecking what we’ve laid out for our patient. The gauze, the tape, homemade butterfly bandages, peroxide, pain relief patches, it seemed as if it was all there. The only thing missing was a blindfold for Alfonso. I’m sure it would have scared him to death to see Nathan, Scott, Dylan. Koss, and I suited up with surgical latex gloves waiting for his arrival. We finally see a group coming with two of the men carrying a body in a blood stained blanket lashed onto a pole. A pair of small boots protrudes from one end of the makeshift stretcher. As we lower him onto a dental chair, which will serve as our examination table, he’s moaning and his head and upper body are soaked in blood. A good chunk of his scalp, the size of a softball, is missing. He has a couple of machete wounds to his neck and a few more defensive chops to his arm. After bandaging him and applying a pain relief patch to his arm the blanket is reattached to the pole. The roads are much too slippery and dangerous to try to get him down by vehicle to the hospital He must be carried down. This trip will take 2 hours and the group of volunteers is diminishing. It is now 10pm which will make it close to 2pm before our return. The rain soaked clay with loose rock strewn here and there would make carrying a makeshift stretcher a challenge. The rainy season has now cut ruts in the road from 2 to 5 feet deep which run its length down the mountain. There are fallen trees across the road. The stream will have to be crossed twice. There are washouts that have left narrow paths with the mountain on one side and steep drop offs on the other. No one knows the hardship of this trip better than these villagers and some decide against making the hike. The group thins but we have 8 of us and that will have to do. We were left with 4 native men and Nathan, Scott, Koos, and me. Nathan and Scott will start the hike. They place the pole on their shoulders and start the hike with several of us lighting the way with our flashlights. Each man will carry as long as he can until he is winded and his shoulders, legs, and back are ready to collapse. All of us will trade on and off carrying Alfonso several times during the next two hours. It is a little after midnight before we’ve arrived at the rendezvous point with the ambulance. Nathan and I go another couple hundred yards so we’ll be able to open the gate for the bomberos. We can see headlights in a distance but with these roads it’ll be sometime before they get here. It feels great to sit down even if we are sitting in a cow pasture between mounds of fresh manure. The stars are out and it is an incredible sight. By 2pm I find myself back at the mission house sponging off with cold water. Exhausted I crawl into bed. I believe I'm asleep before my head ever hits the pillow.

Losing track of time

2007-12-13T15:28:00.000-08:00

It is December 7th, I’ve just remembered today is my brother Randy’s birthday and my brother Rick’s birthday was on the 4th. Happy Birthday Bro’s!!! Without a calendar and having seldom contact with anyone off this mountain, time means little.

The last I had blogged the North Carolina team was being sent off. Another trip to the city would be forthcoming as the Emory’s from Gainesville, Florida would be arriving on the same day as both Patty from Tampa, Florida, and Sarah Ruzic’s brother and sister-in -law from Kentucky. Sarah loaded up her family and headed up the mountain while the rest of the families headed to the Rio Dulce River.

The rainy season is supposed to be behind us but Mother Nature seems to be confused. We’ve had to pull over to find large trash bags to put the suitcases in. They all seem to fit except for two oversized bags that Patty has brought. She had spent the last couple of weeks gathering warm clothes and shoes from her church and her boy’s school. She had already spent an extra $100 to have American Airlines transport them so we were determined to keep them dry. It was dark when we arrived at the river.

The next morning we loaded up the boat with the Beene family, the Emory family, the Moro family, Anthony (from New York), Nathan (from Alabama), and Patty (from Florida). We made a stop at an open air market along the river to pick up beans, chips, water, pineapples, tangerines, avocados and boots. Everyone settled in for the long scenic boat ride to the village. Upon arriving we were greeted by the villagers that helped carry the medical supplies and a hand cistern to the village. The medicines were lined up and sorted on benches by Cassidy and Kayla while Chelsea entertained the kids playing a game of duck-duck–goose. Rocky and Patty would spend the day assisting Dr. Michelle Emory tending to the medical needs The three ladies worked as a well oiled machine as Dr. Michelle diagnosed the patients ailments while Patty and Rocky then administered the medicines as per Michelle’s instructions. In the meantime we guys worked on installing a new hand cistern. The old cistern had not worked for close to 6 months and the women had to walk close to a mile crossing a muddy swamp to get to the river for water. We had just experienced first hand the treachery of that trek. Peter Emory had fallen twice on his face and his front showed the proof. Boots and flip flops had to be pried free from the sticky black mud as the occupants teetered on the brink of becoming casualties themselves. Those trying to cross on the logs appeared to be tight rope artist as they tried to shuffle across with each new log sinking underwater as they stepped upon it. The woman of the village earned a lot of respect from all the gringos that day. With the cistern fixed the ladies of the village had one other problem for us to look at, their corn mill had not worked for over 13 years. The last 13 years these ladies had ground the corn by hand to make their tortillas. The problem was a simple matter of installing a new set screw on a gear and replacing a worn belt. Life would now be so much easier for the ladies of the Rio Dulce.

The next morning, Paul, Mike, and I would survey the property purchased by FIA on the Rio Dulce. We would discuss the best layout of the property for use as a mission house for expansion of FIA’s ministry on the river. It’s close to mid-day and time to head back up the mountain to celebrate Thanksgiving. There will be over 40 missionaries giving thanks.

The next several day’s families line up outside our apartment as Patty ushers them in one at a time and sets them on the couch waiting their turn for clothing. Patty and Cassidy have separated the clothes, from the two large suitcases, into piles and are now bringing out specific items to fit the families. Shoes and warm clothes seem to be the items in most demand.

It’s time for Patty to return to Florida and we’ll be taking the Pastor, Domingo, his wife, Carolina and their dog, Daisy down the mountain with us. The back of the truck is loaded to the hilt so everyone will be riding inside. I’m concerned about leaving Dylan, after having been up early with him vomiting. I’ve left instructions with Sarah to call if he’s not better. The trip to Guatemala City is uneventful with the exception of unexplained bug bites suddenly appearing on Patty’s legs. The reason became obvious the next day as I jumped in the shower and noticed that I had over 100 red bites on myself. Fleas had made my truck their new home and I became their favorite meal since both Daisy and Patty were no longer aboard.

The flea bites from the pastor’s dog Daisy have served as a constant reminder of loosing another Pastor. It seems it is much easier for donations to be given to build a church, a school, homes, a mission house, or some sort of tangible project than it is to support a good pastor. For some reason it has been a struggle to find the support to do what missionary work is all about--“THE SPREADING OF THE GOOD NEWS OF JESUS CHRIST”. We seem capable of showing the people we care now the second part of the equation is to show them what we know in spreading the gospel. It takes money to support these pastors. Even if we raise up a pastor from within the village he still lives hand to mouth and needs support for him and his family. The recurring situation of loosing pastors certainly puts a damper on things.

We're Back

2007-11-19T20:08:00.000-08:00

It’s now November 19th. We arrived again in Guatemala on the 29th of October and although the airport seemed modern with the new construction the service was still of the third world mentality. Over two hours had passed and a dozen families from Spirit flight 143 stared in blank confusion at the luggage conveyer, myself and my three kids were among them. Everyone may have retrieved a part of their belongings but the remainder was somewhere in the abyss. The Moro family was missing two boxes which contained the drum set we were bringing to the church in Pinalito. When reps finally showed up, two hours later, the news was the same for all-------When a flight is fully booked sometimes there is not enough room for the luggage so it is sent on a later flight. Spirit’s standard policy was a news shock to me. I had never heard of such a routine matter of fact practice. We of course would be expected to come and pick up the luggage when it arrived. All I could think was ‘Welcome to Guatemala’. Rocky and Michael were waiting for us in Zacapa. After spending the night there they would escort us up the backside of the mountain. The usual route had been destroyed with the summer rains and was impassible. Two days would pass before the luggage was able to be picked up. Adjust, readjust, and readjust again was standard practice in this area of the world.

I had made a serious error when loading up our belongings and ourselves in the two taxis. The thought hadn’t crossed my mind until the taxi I had put Dylan and Cassidy in was out of sight and our surroundings seemed unfamiliar. There was a tinge of nauseousnous in the pit of my stomach. The story of Jesus being left behind in Jerusalem by his parents entered my mind. Why hadn’t I put the luggage in one taxi and kept the kids with me? The ten minutes which seemed like an eternity passed before we pulled up behind Dylan’s taxi in front of the apartment. A quick prayer of gratitude and a self inflicted kick in my butt were in order.

As fortune would have it we found fellow missionary Jaime Ortiz and his son Jamison stranded in Guatemala City. Their truck was at a repair shop and probably wouldn’t be ready until the following week. It was a blessing to have Jaime not only guides us through the maize of getting out of the city but also the back way up the mountain in the darkness of night especially when that route includes several hundred yards of using a flowing river bed as a road.

The first order of business here in the mountains is ensuring the water is flowing unhindered in the mountain apartment. This requires taking apart all the faucets, toilet intake assemblies, and a propane hot water heater. We then flush water through them and remove sticks, rocks, sand, and other sentiment that has made it’s way into the water line. The mission had run out of Teflon tape a necessity when working on the propane water heater----so the water heater could not be used. I was the only one that took a shower that night. I had never got a brain freeze from taking a shower before. This was a first.

It is morning and there is a quick exchange of greetings with a team from Kentucky that has spent time working on the internet, the church tile job, evangelizing, and visiting villagers.

Several days later we are now settled in. There is a string of kids sitting on our bunk beds listening to Dylan play the drums, each waiting to take their turn. Cassidy is outside with my laptop with kids huddled around her as she shows them pictures of themselves and her own summer activities back home. Michael, Rocky, and their kids are in Zacapa with a team from Pennsylvania working on the dormitory. I’ve dropped Austin off at the dormitory job site in Zacapa. He was running through ½ mile of ditches freshly put in for the sewer lines with his cousin Travis as I head back up the mountain with a team of 7 volunteers from Brevard, N.C. and my two nieces, Tiffany and Chelsea. The truck is packed to the gills with cement, luggage, and missionaries. We’ve bottomed out a half dozen times with the load but we are here. In the morning one group will head to the church with me to finish the tile job, another will start making cabinets for apartment 4, and the two visiting P.A’s will work organizing the clinic and seeing villagers.

It is Saturday, Sarah and Melanie have done an outstanding job preparing to put on a carnival for the kids. There are close to 70 kids attending plus the parents and teenagers.
There is face painting, fishing for prizes, basketball toss, a play, chocolate covered frozen bananas and more. It will be the dark before everyone goes home.

The next days will include our work coupled with long hard walks to remote adobe huts visiting families evangelizing and handing out clothes and stuffed animals. We had our fill of tortillas as each family we visited prepared them fresh.

A week has passed and it is now time to take our new friends from Brevard, North Carolina down the mountain. It is not too late as they still have one more adventure while departing Pinalito. The majority of the team will take a 4 hour walk down one side of the mountain. (Sorry just had a water line break that was flooding the school that needed fixing-----my typing may get a little sloppy here with the glue on my fingers) They will be entertained by Dylan riding a cow and also come to the rescue of Austin who did not wear socks. He now has blisters on his feet and will be carried down by Gordon, Koss, and Dylan. The rest of the crew will be riding with both Sarah and me. We’ll bring the luggage down with our trucks. The problem will be the light constant rain that we’ve had for the last 4 hours It wouldn’t be long before we were sliding in the mud dodging fallen trees and rocks. Cassidy and Chelsea are clinging to the tailgate of my truck screaming with each slide. The mud chains would have to be installed. Bart, Allen, and I would wrestle with installing the chains on both trucks. Sarah’s chain will break after hitting the first rock but she manages to control the slides and continues to drive it down like a pro. We’ve made it to the bottom of the mountain and it is time to retrieve the rest to the group from the other side before heading to Antigua for a couple of days of r&r.

Final Test

2007-08-31T05:22:00.000-07:00

We were to leave Guatemala on June 20th. The rainy season had already started and the road leading up the mountain to the villages was impassible. Jaime Ortiz, a fellow missionary living in the mission house in Matasano, was trying to get up to his wife, Cindy, and his kids with the groceries he had bought in Zacapa. The past week, the Ortiz family had survived only on rice and beans. On the second day, after working on the road and getting a reprieve from the rain, we were able to deliver Jaime and the groceries to his family. It was now getting late and we would have to try to make the trip to Pinalito the following day. After waiting till late morning to allow the morning sun to dry the roads, my son, Dylan, his friend Gustavo (his friend from the states), and I ventured further up the mountain.
After two hours of driving, the ruts became too wide and deep to continue any further so we abandoned the truck. We would cross the stream and hike another 30 minutes on foot. Time was not on our side. The afternoon rains would be starting and we still needed to hydrate, pack our things and get off the mountain quickly. Ten minutes had not passed and we were still trying to catch our breath from the steep climb in the heat of the day, when a distressed young girl comes to our door with fear written all over her face. Gustavo and Dylan translated that a young girl is dying and we needed to come. Everything is dropped as we start the run through the mission to the mountain road and up the steep dirt path to the house of Gregorio. I heard crying and I recognized the voice of the pastor’s wife, Carolina, as she rebuked the devil and pleaded with Dios (God) to spare this child. Gregorio was holding his 5 year old daughter, Esmeralda, as she shook violently. Her eyes were blank and staring nowhere. Her breathing was labored and shutting down fast and she was convulsing and froth was dripping from the edge of her mouth. Rugina, Esmeralda’s mom, was weeping and kept repeating “liar!!! Liar!!!”, in Spanish. I had no idea if is she was accusing God or the Devil of the act.
One night two years earlier, she had lost her daughter, Milagro, to seizures. Esmeralda was her only daughter with five brothers. Most families would lose at least two children before they became adults. Dylan and Gustavo translated a series of questions as I tried to determine what had caused this, but I’m no doctor!!! She had eaten a fresh water crab and some fruit for lunch a few hours earlier. Was it food poisoning? Was she having an allergic reaction or was it something else? All the medical supplies were in the clinic but I didn’t have those keys and we were up here alone. I would have to get in Sarah and Melanie’s apartment and find their set of keys but they were in Guatemala City. Sarah is extremely organized and on the verge of being anal. Normally I would have to tease her, but today I would certainly thank God for that trait! She is quite unique and amazing to say the least. The keys are color coded but I don’t know which keys go with which colors. I dialed Sarah, knowing that I wouldn't get through... but there is a “Hey Ron” coming through the receiver! After briefly filling her in on the dilemma she asked me where I am and I explained "I’m in your apartment looking at your key board!” “But, that’s impossible, there is no phone reception in my apartment”, she said. My response was simply, “I guess God says there is”. Upon locating the keys, it was a mad dash to the clinic to find the epinephrine and syringes. We frantically tore apart the drawers in the dispensary with no luck. I decided to try to call Michael. After filling him in on the situation he directed me to a drawer in the dental room. “Where are you now?" he asked. “I’m in the clinic going through the drawers in the dental room.” Again the familiar response, “that’s impossible, there is no reception in the clinic”. My answer seemed all too familiar. “I guess God says there is.
By now the ordeal was well underway, but my testing was about to begin. You see, I have a very special pair of sunglasses that everyone thinks are sooo cool. While running with my hands full of vials of epi, a syringe, a pack of needles and a respirator, one of my lenses fell out of my glasses. The dilemma is.... do I stop and bend down and pick up a piece of my favorite sunglasses or do I continue to run to help a girl I don’t even know? I continued the run.
Well, okay, that was only $80.
Approaching the home, I could hear Carolina rebuking the devil, as well as the cries of her parents. Family members wait outside the house. After numerous injections of the epinephrine and the use of the respirator Esmeralda seemed to calm, but we must get off this mountain and to the hospital NOW, before the rains hit.
The villagers of Pinalito are reluctant to go to the hospital. Too many of them have died from neglect at the hands of prejudiced hospital personnel. Rugina has now made a sling and has Esmeralda in it. They started the descent from their home, down the narrow steep path and across a barbwire fence to the road that will lead to the truck. I desperately tried once more, to reach Dr Tosha Knight, or my sister in law Katie. I wanted to see if there is anything that I may have missed, before leaving the supplies in the clinic. There is no answer on either phone.
As I ran down the mountain to catch the others I realized that I hadn’t locked up my apartment. I had left our 4 laptops worth close to $8,000 strewn around the apartment. The materialistic side of me urged me to go back and secure my possessions. The compassionate side urged me to hurry down the mountain and help carry Esmeralda.
How these people hike up and down these roads is amazing. Some of the inclines are 45 degrees. We were now running down hill. The footing was terrible, with loose clay and rock underfoot. The washouts were everywhere, forming ruts across the road that must be jumped and avoided. I finally caught up and I’m sweating and breathing heavily but so is everyone. Carolina signaled for Rugina to put the sling over my shoulders. First, we sat Esmeralda down and used the respirator. Her breathing was once again much labored. I was not sure that we will get her down the mountain alive. My heart was pounding and my legs were on fire! Gregorio will have to finish the run.
Gustavo was in the front seat to interpret while the family was in the back. Dylan was hanging on for dear life in the back of the truck, while we bounced over ruts and come dangerously close to sliding over the side of the mountain. He would have to jump out and open gates on the descent than run to catch the truck as we continued our descent. The two hour drive was made in 20 minutes.
The materialistic demon was still on my shoulder telling me to slow down so I didn’t ruin my suspension. Michael and I had discussed this many times... how this mountain could tear apart a truck with all its rocks and ruts with Baja driving. I continued driving but shortly noticed that a red engine light had come on. I had just bought this truck-----the last thing I could afford was to blow the engine. The prayer became, “Please Lord just let me get Esmeralda to the hospital before the engine blows." We made it
. The next day, two prayer warriors, Sarah and Melanie, and I visited the family. It was such a blessing to see little Esmeralda being held in her mother’s arms. It looked as if Rugina would never turn loose. Sarah took Esmeralda and bought her a new dress, hair ties, and had her hair trimmed and shampooed.
Today Esmeralda is back on top the mountain doing fine and under the careful watch of her mother Rugina.
I had come away with not one, but two valuable lessons from my J.C. 101 class. The first came from my sister Rocky. When she heard of my reckless descent down the mountain, she felt compelled to tell me of a similar story about herself with a near tragic ending. She thought as I did, that everything depended on her, in saving a life. She was racing down the mountain to save a life with a carload of people when she had taken a curve too wide and had gone over the side of the mountain. Expecting to have the vehicle tumble end over end with all its passengers she prayed and asked God for forgiveness for killing everyone aboard. Just as fast as the road had vanished it now reappears under her tires. Excitedly she told her husband, Michael, the story. He was not at all amused, and was quite angry at her reckless behavior. Michael explained that she is NOT the one in control; it is God who is in control. Her job was to pray and act responsible.
It was a point well taken.
The second lesson had to deal with my selfish and materialistic life. The lesson started with my favorite sunglasses being lost and continued to escalate in value as the day progressed. From sunglasses, to computers, to my truck and ended the following day with me emptying my pockets to pay for Esmeralda’s hospital bills. In hindsight I realized I had received the best lesson/gift of all: I had finally realized that material possessions are not important. It is the relationships that really add value to one’s life. Of course, I’m certainly not in control of anything------God’s in control!!!!

We’ll be heading back in October. I’m not sure how long we’ll stay this time but the idea is until the first of next year. Please keep us in your prayers.

God Bless,
Ron and Kids

Guess Who Is In Control

2007-08-06T08:18:00.000-07:00

GUESS WHO IS IN CONTROL?

Our trip was coming to a conclusion now near the end of June. We had finished working alongside the Indians on the Rio Dulce River building benches for the church and extracting teeth and doing other dental work in a makeshift facility on the outskirts of the village. It was time to head to Zacapa to meet up with a team of block masons from North Carolina. The dorms for the mountain children were ready to have the initial blocks laid. These men from the mountains of North Carolina, full of country twang and bear hunting exploits, were here for the mountain children of Pinalito and Mantasana. To be at this juncture in the building process was a story in its own right. Twice I had seen what could only be God intervening in the construction process. Only days before the footers are to be dug a long time missionary, Paul Emory who for years headed up construction building throughout the world for Missionary Ventures, called Michael to let him know he was flying a small plane into Zacapa-----Could Michael pick him up? Arriving at the job site Paul quickly noticed the building was laid out incorrectly. He spent that evening redrawing the plans to add more bathrooms and provide a better utilization of the space. The next day the building was re-laid to the new set of plans. After Paul had left, Andrew Weiver calls from New York saying that he’s coming in. Andrew is a college student studying construction and engineering. I had met him a couple months earlier when he came in for a week with a group of volunteers from New York Times Church. The timing was perfect, with his expertise in structural steel and concrete strength the pads and footers were formed, poured, and ready just in time for the masons. With the masons came another surprise Dan Schieffelin. He happened to be a warranty and service provider for Gentrac Catepillar generators. That particular generator was the main generator for the mission and had been out of service for with no one able to get it running. Dan had it purring by the following day. As help were needed God continually provided and expert in that field. It was quite amazing to experience.

Davids Fall

2007-07-27T13:46:00.000-07:00

David’s fall

It has been several weeks since the revival. David had just been saved. He was now clearing brush and tall grass off his property on the side of the mountain. He uses a sharp machete to cut the brush than stacks it in burn piles. While working on the lower part of the mountain he notices some kids lighting the brush at the top. Rushing to the top trying to put out the fire David loses his footing. The fall is off the steepest part of the mountain. David describes the fall as falling out of a tall pine tree. He would fall and bounce like a rag doll. His descent would continue in that same manner until finally he comes to rest nearly 100 feet lower. David looks as if he has been drug through briars and then severely beaten with a baseball bat. His face is badly swollen and his body is cut and bruised. His clothes are tattered. He is lucky to be alive. I thought this event would certainly put an end to his walk with God. Ever since his commitment, trouble has fallen on him and his family. With David being a leader among the men of the village he would certainly be a great catch for the devil to put back in his fold. What was truly amazing, instead of cursing God, he gives thanks to God for catching him as he was falling (this is not the first time I’ve heard of God catching His people on this mountain and I’m sure it won’t be the last).

The Revival

2007-07-25T18:15:00.001-07:00

04/07
The Revival

The revival is in its second night. The music is great. It has a Latino beat, mixed with a Caribbean steel drum flavor and a little polka thrown in. The music is very unique to say the least. The music has stopped and the preaching about the rapture has continued from the previous night. I’m sitting next to Michael so he can interpret the message. He reemphasizes that Christ has come and opened the door for us to go to heaven by dying on the cross and removing our sins. We must believe and accept this free gift in order to go to heaven. It would change our lives. We would no longer lie, steal, fight, or kill. There would come a day when the villagers would knock on their pastor’s door and the pastor and his family would be gone. Michael, Rocky, and their family, as well as the missionaries would be gone. Some of their families and neighbors would be gone. God would have taken them all to heaven. The only ones left behind were those who had heard the word of God but refused to listen and believe. The sermon was very powerful. The sound system, which had worked flawlessly, has now failed. The lights, powered by the generator would suddenly fail. The old witch doctor stood in the back of the church waving his hands while chanting and casting spells on all who attended. I t seemed like an epic battle of good versus evil. Rocky and several others now head to the back of church to confront the witch doctor and pray over him. Within minutes the sound system and lights are back on, the whole time the preacher has not missed a beat. The ministers and elders now pass through the pews laying their hands on the people while praying with them. It is now time for an alterThe alter call brought David to the front kneeling on the hard unfinished concrete floor crying with his face in his hands. This man will have an incredible testimony. It is because of his savage attack on a man from another village, where David had sought revenge on a man for raping his uncle’s wife, that this nearby village considers Pinalito savages. In the incident David and Rejulleo chopped the offender into little pieces and spread his remains between the 2 villages. Several weeks ago, some kids had broken into the missionary house and stolen food and money. Stealing is a way of life out here. The parents usually congratulate their kids for there being able to outwit whomever they have stolen from. They only become angry if the kids are caught, this would show that their kids were not smart. Some of the villagers had put the blame on two of David’s children. Supposedly the oldest daughter had helped her brother through the windows. We discussed among the missionaries how we would handle the problem when we found the guilty party. Some of us, including myself, thought we should confront them and administer some form of punishment. Others thought we should bless them with a sack of rice and beans, kind of if they ask for your shirt give them your jacket too. I realized that my attitude was all wrong and as it turned out our missing items would be a lesson for me and a blessing. We had a meeting with all the missionaries and Michael and Rocky explained that is why we are here. If these people were already Christians there would be no need for us being among the Mayans. We needed to show the New Testament Christian way of handling these sorts of issues. I was pretty ashamed of my Old Testament ‘A Tooth For A Tooth’ attitude. As it turned out we are leaving the church service and David’s oldest daughter, the one who was suspected of having pushed her younger brother through the window to steel our things, had her hand cut with a machete and David is now bringing her to the clinic to have Michael suture her hand. Michael and Rocky shared their joy in their friend David’s decision and so glad that they would now be able to see him in heaven. David said he knew it was the devil trying to get at him with his daughter getting her hand cut directly from departing the service but he would push his chest out and stay strong in his new found faith.
Keep David and his family in your prayers. I’m sure there will be plenty of attacks on them in the coming weeks.

Fire on the Mountain

2007-06-28T08:10:00.001-07:00

04/12/07.

It seemed like today was going to be a pretty uneventful day with me continuing to work on plumbing issues around the mission. We had a problem with a pesky dog that has constantly gotten into the garbage meant for the worms, this time he had uncovered Jackson. The boys, Dylan, Austin, and Josiah had a mission to get rid of him once and for all. They had gone so far as throwing knives at him.

We had just all showered and eaten supper and were preparing to crank up the generator
to watch a movie with Greg and Ben. Ben was commenting on how orange the sky was.
It was almost 7pm so the sun had already been down for 30 minutes. We went to the side
of the property to see several ridges engulfed in fire. The fire was separating us from our
other mission in Mantasano. Sarah and Melanie were returning from Zacapa and would
have to pass through there. They were already 2 hours late. We called the mission in
Mantasano and were told the girls had made it that far and would spend the night there.
Armed with shovels and hoes Dylan, Austin, Ben, Greg, William, and I took off down
the mountain road. We could see villagers silhouettes against a fiery backdrop as the
yelled back and forth to each other and used there machetes and garden hoes to make a fire break. We had to climb a steep ridge to get above the fire and prevent it from crossing to the other side. We grabbed at briars and weeds to help us up and literally had to use our hands to almost crawl up the steep embankment. We all would find ourselves sliding unintentionally down the mountain and into already burnt underbrush before the night would be over. At the top of the ridge was a man and what appeared to be his sons using machetes and sticks to cut the tall grass and swat at the burning fire. I stumbled on a mound of dirt and noticed crosses and assorted relics on top of mounds and realized we were in their family burial ground. We joined in chopping away underbrush and removing pine needles from the top of the ridge trail to keep the fire from jumping down the other side. Once that seemed contained, Ben and I would move further down the ridge where the men were hooting and hollering as the flames quickly approached the ridge they were trying to hold. Dylan and Josiah’s job would be to make sure nothing flared back up where we had already been. The wind shifted and we now had a breach were the fire had crossed the fire break and was heading toward the Pinalito mission. We needed to get down in the valley to prevent the fire from heading up the other side of the mountain. While perched above the fire we would take shovels full of dirt and throw it on the fire below while attempting to maintain our balance. Sometimes that didn’t work out very well and you would see one of us slide down toward the fire before we regained footing or had someone grab us. It was now about 4 hours into the fight and Koos had arrived from Mantasano with shovel in hand. You have to understand Koos. He is Dutch but has lived in the US most of his life and is 23 years old. He is an avid runner and is very intelligent, but can be a bit annoying and a know it all. He was now lecturing Josiah on not leaving his shovel behind and the technique of using the point of the shovel to lower you down the mountain. At this time Ben and I were sitting in the soot trying to catch our breath and chuckling over the one-sided reprimand. There was a blaze about 100 yards below and to the right of us. Ben and I had decided to go up to the ridge, cut across and search for a better descent route. Koos on the other hand decided to head straight down and cut across at the bottom using the technique he had just explained to Josiah. Koos walked to the ledge with shovel in hand and a head light on bright. He took one more step as Ben and I watched in amazement as he tumbled out of sight. He appeared to be caught in the spin cycle of a wash machine, but being spun vertically with his headlight constantly appearing than disappearing as he continued into the abyss. When he stopped he had covered nearly 100 feet in a matter of seconds. The natives, as well as us are laughing hysterically. Five minutes had passed when a bright light now appears climbing over the ledge. It was Koos coming back to find the shovel he had lost with his first misstep. When I questioned him about his short cut, his response in a high squeaky voice was FAST!!!! The last hotspot was only accessible by us sliding on our rears. This was a two tear process, sliding down about 30 feet before landing on a short 2 foot ledge than another slide of the last 30 foot with a four foot vertical drop to a hard clay road to finish the descent. Josiah and Dylan were the first down sliding on there backs before hitting the 4 foot drop and abruptly landing with a thud on the road. They were followed by Austin, who found the angle too steep and did a front flip and was caught by his older brother, Dylan, who suffered a black eye in the ordeal. Ben had taken his shovel across his lap and stood perched on the 2 foot ledge facing downhill as I began my slide with my shovel across my lap. I couldn’t find any traction and definitely had too much speed as I slid between Ben’s legs and nearly took him down the remaining slope in Jamaican bobsled form. This constant game of chess trying to outmaneuver the flames and smoke went on for close to 5 hours. Beat, exhausted, covered with soot and smelling of smoke we were never so happy to feel warm water and hold a bar of soap in our hands as we were tonight. I was complaining about an uneventful day and not getting in a hike-----I don’t think I’ll complain about that for awhile!!!!! I guess the boys won’t complain either, I’m finishing this up the next morning and it is now 11:30am and they are all still fast asleep. I’m proud of them—they did well. They are some tired puppies and I think I’ll let them sleep as long as they want this morning.

More Heartache

2007-06-28T08:04:00.000-07:00

04/08/07

It is almost 7am Easter Sunday morning; I’ve gone to the kitchen table to study Spanish. I look outside and see Jackson, the kid’s dog, lying in an unusual position. I can’t see him breathing. I’m feeling nauseas as I call out his name with no response. As I walk up to him I find him cold and stiff. He was a great dog!!! I have no idea how I’ll tell the kids. Just last night, Cassidy, the team and I were stuffing candy into plastic Easter eggs for the village kids for a fun day after church. Now it wouldn’t be such a fun day for my kids especially thinking one of the locals—that we are here helping could have poisoned our dogs. I had just buried Beano, another great dog on Thursday. This morning it was our dog.

Casualties of the Mountain

2007-06-28T06:12:00.001-07:00

04/05/07

The last couple of days have been pretty sad. On Tuesday morning, my sister, Rocky had gone over to cut the chord of a newborn baby boy with her husband, Mike and two missionary ladies (Sarah Ruzic and Melanie Golden). The 14 year old mother had just squatted and delivered her first baby, dropping him head first into the mud in her hut. Rocky had arrived in time to clean up the boy and try to get him to nurse with no luck. This was the same mother I had brought back up the mountain a few days prior from having a sonogram. The baby at that time was 3 weeks premature from being able to have a safe delivery date He died later that night never able to really breathe or eat.

I buried Beano, Kayla’s dog this afternoon. It had been whining the last 2 nights. His back legs were paralyzed. The native kids had informed us that he had eaten a poisonous snake.

I did get to try out my loctite glue on someone else beside myself. I couldn’t find any superglue so loctite would have to do. I was the first patient last Saturday morning. I was waiting to drive to Chiquimula with Sarah and pick up mattresses and decided to ride the street surfer---hit a rock and kissed the concrete with my head. The next patient was Andrew, a construction major from New York) who was hit in the nose with a machete. A local kid was waving his machete (all the males of all ages carry them). Andrew happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and took a slice across the bridge of his nose. I think our modeling aspirations have been crushed---HAHA

We're Here!!!!!

2007-06-28T05:07:00.000-07:00

We arrived March 3rd in Guatemala City, myself, my three kids (Dylan, Cassidy, and Austin), and of course our dog, Jackson. The last month leading up to the trip had the devil at his very best trying to persuade us not to go. Money seemed to bleed profusely from every financial pore I possessed, projects that were to be completed before we left would not be finished. Bids that were to materialize before departure and help pay for monthly expenses were postponed by companies for a later undetermined date. Dylan had just broken the growth plate on his wrist in two places just one week before our flight was to leave. It had been set once in North Carolina and had to be reset in Orlando a week later, of course his snowboarding accident was not covered by our health insurance so the money was directly out of my pocket. We could not find anyone to take our two cats. It sure seemed the sensible thing to do would be to blow the whole thing off, but at 5:00 the morning of March 3rd we headed for the airport facing our last obstacle before boarding. We had just pulled up to the cargo department of American Airlines to pick up a pet container. The air carrier had failed to tell me that their cargo department is closed on Saturday mornings. We were advised to go a Super Walmart and buy one there---there just wasn’t enough time. Finally we did find a shipping department on the other side of the terminal with pet containers. We arrived in Guatemala City an hour late and spent the next couple of hours trying to claim our pet.
The following morning was Sunday and we spent it in a very lively and enthusiastic worship service. The question again arose if I had made the correct decision for my family as I carried Cassidy in my arms out of church. She had fainted and was feeling sick. The love and concern of the Guatemalan parishioners helped calm me. I knew we were doing the right thing.

When we arrived, the first line of business, for me, was to take an inventory of the condition of the citrus trees and the worm beds. The trees would require some time to get them healthy and ready for grafting. The worms, needed to make the organic fertilizer, pesticide, and fungicide, were in disarray. We had to find an ample supply of cow manure, garbage, and an illusive rock called azomite. This combination fed to the worms would help produce a grade an organic fertilizer, pesticide, and fungicide. We could use this for not only the citrus trees but also the coffee plants, macadamia trees, banana trees, and all other plants we would be growing.

While the worms were doing there thing, we were freed up to help with the ongoing construction projects around the mission. This phase included a lot of tile and plumbing work with some sporadic electrical, carpentry, and masonry work thrown in. The church, the main house, and the apartment housing for the missionaries all got our attention. This work reminds me of an old baseball movie with Kevin Costner where he and his family build a baseball diamond with bleachers. The movie, “Field of Dreams”, had an underlining message of “build it and they will come”. I feel we are doing the same thing in the mountains among God’s impoverished people. Just as the famous ballplayers from years ago came to Costner’s ball field to play baseball so to be missionaries coming to the mountains of Pinalito and Mantasana to serve. There have been medical teams, teachers, farmers, construction workers, mechanics and many more sharing God’s love with these people by their selfless deeds. Through the stories and experiences of these missionaries coupled with living among the Mayan Indians in a third world country where carrying a machete or having a 9mm pistol and several clips of ammo strapped to your side, my three children and I were about to swept up in a series of life changing events. I’m writing most of this after our return to the states, June 20th, so I’ll try my best to get the events in chronological order. I apologize in advance for my lack of writing skills, I was a math and microbiology major and writing was a despised class

Matt 20:28 “For even I, the Son of Man, came here not to be served but to serve others, and to give my life as a ransom for many.”