Jesus, not me

Missions report from Japan

Dec 16

servantStories faith, Japan, missionary, praise No Comments

After 25 years of ministry as missionaries in Japan, my wife and are heading home. We have had 25 great years in Japan, and it has been a fulfilling ministry. 25 years is not as long as some missionaries stay on the field, but I was 39 when I arrived. It is HARD learning a difficult language like Japanese at middle age!

My wife and I had some ups and downs in the ministry here, but the downs were teaching experiences, as most people will say. Only for us, God took us in a way that our organization was headed before our organization headed in this direction. We learned beforehand how powerful the Holy Spirit is at teaching new believers, without the constant oversight of missionaries or pastors at the beginning. And lots of people (churches) did not like things that involved change from the ordinary, but we persevered with joy in our hearts.

Japan is listed in some circles as being basically “unresponsive” to the gospel – with approximately 1/2 of 1% as being believers. Evangelical missionaries and organizations have been in this country over 150 years.
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Completely healed, thank You Jesus!

Oct 05

servantStories Canada, giving thanks, healing, health, trust 1 Comment

I just saw my wife already shared this, but I have to share it too because, although it hasn’t impacted me as much as it has her, it has still had a profound impact on our life and family.

Back in July, my wife was diagnosed with an auto-immune connective tissue disease. This could have been one of a half-dozen things, rheumatoid arthritis among others I can’t pronounce, much less spell. She had a painful lump on her wrist, and blood work from the doctor indicated it was most definitely a connective tissue disease and that the specialist would tell us which one, and what we needed to do. Of course, this was shocking and terrible news… health is a vital concern, and it hit all of us quite hard.

The specialist appointment was made for October 4th, so we had a long time to wait. That time could either be spent in dread of the news to come, or in proactive prayer and proclamation of the goodness of God. We chose the latter, and the first Tuesday we could after we found out, we were at the church prayer service to have her prayed over. Within two days, the painful lump on her wrist was gone. Over the next few months, she was prayed over at the ladies group, and responded to an altar call for healing at the church evening service this last Sunday. We were digging in as deep as we could!

Yesterday we went to the specialist. She was in the office for 20 minutes. When she came out, I had no idea if we were coming back for more tests or whatnot, but she came out glowing! She said the doctor looked at her like she was crazy as he poked and prodded at her finger joints and her wrist. He then told her that her wrist was perfect, that she most definitely did not have a connective tissue disease, and that he would likely never see her again.

Praise God, He did a wonderful thing for our family! I don’t know if her disease was healed after that first Tuesday prayer, if it was sometime in between, or if it was last Sunday. And it doesn’t even matter when it was, all that matters is she is healed, God is faithful, and His tender mercies have touched us.

You know, other answers to prayer can sometimes lead to doubt. If you pray for a job and then get one, is it because you prayed or because you put out a few hundred resumes and applications? Sometimes we rationalize away the great thing God has given to us. But with healing, especially for a disease, you can’t rationalize it away. It is a miracle. There is no science involved. God got involved because we asked Him to, and He was faithful to hear, and merciful to heal. Thank You Jesus, so very much, for this beautiful gift you have given to us. I pray that we never forget it, never belittle it, and use it to share Your love with others that need it and to be drawn even closer to You. We owed you EVERYTHING before this, and now You have beggared us yet again by giving us even more. Thank You!

Prayer leads to healing

Oct 05

servantStories Canada, giving thanks, healing, health 2 Comments

I was diagnosed in July with Connective Tissue Disease because of a large bump on my wrist. It scared me, but I could not get into the specialist for 2 and 1/2 months. So my family was praying, my church was praying, I had everyone I could think of put me on their prayer list. When I went into see the specialist yesterday, the doctor said not only did I not have Connective Tissue Disease but that my wrist was perfect! That was the word he used! Praise God, thank you Lord that you are bigger then everything!!

BBQ for the homeless and less fortunate

Jun 13

servantStories conversion, drugs, Edmonton, event, faith, giving thanks, Holy Spirit, homeless, hope, obedience, poverty, relationship No Comments

“For He will deliver the needy when He cries,
The poor also, and him who has no helper.
He will spare the poor and needy,
And will save the souls of the needy.
He will redeem their life from oppression and violence;
And precious shall be their blood in His sight.” (Ps 72:12-14, NKJV)

The above was part of my Bible reading guide this morning and it spoke volumes due to what we had done yesterday. Yesterday, we had put on a BBQ in probably the roughest neighbourhood in our inner city, a free BBQ to feed the homeless, helpless, and the less fortunate. Why did we do this? Because we love God, and we know He loves these people and street people are of value as well (which the above verse definitely indicates!), and they deserve to be shown the same dignity and respect that we are all accustomed to.

This is the third year this event has been put on, and preparation for it began months ago. There were preparations in the natural, of course, soliciting donations for the event, but there were also preparations in the spiritual realm. Twice we had done prayer walks around the field, just praying that God would do what He does best: meet with people, transform people, that His Spirit would be there in a very real way. As organizers, we had prayed together and individually for this thing for weeks beforehand.

Yesterday morning I was up at six in the morning, preparing to be down at the site for eight in the morning to begin setup. That morning I was reading from the book of Acts, and the works of the early church inspired me for the day. What powerful things the early church had done! What beautiful adoration to God, to His Word, to His divine purpose! What a humbling thing to try and recreate by the work we were doing!

The BBQ was an absolute success. Despite little technical setbacks early on that, in the grand scheme of things, really amounted to nothing, we had an opportunity to feed at least 500-700 people. Local media was out, so we got a few seconds of exposure on the local TV stations (keep reading to see the clips) and there should be an article in the local newspaper regarding it as well. It was a hot day, up to 24C and many of us got sun burnt. We gave away so much, a thousand hot dogs and a thousand hamburgers, brand-new clothes that were donated, pillows, donuts, fruit, chips, pop, bottles of water. Thank you to the many companies that supported us and gave freely to the event, and thank you to the many volunteers that helped. God bless you all!

Now that the natural results have been described, I need to describe the spiritual. And this is what made this day so exciting, so powerful, and so exhausting. As I said, we were praying for weeks before the event and even driving down, the music in the car was off, and I was praying for the BBQ, for the volunteers, for the food, for the people that were coming to the event. And God moved in an absolutely powerful way! Thank You God that You listen to the heart-felt prayers of Your people who are striving to be obedient and do Your will! There is so much to describe, so it may be a bit disjointed — please bear with me.

First and foremost, there was such a sense of joy among the volunteers. There were no arguments, no one complained about having to do more than others, or do something they didn’t like. We were united in one purpose. There were smiles everywhere, people were so welcoming to those coming through the line to be fed, there was a genuine servanthood evident. There was such complete _peace_ in that place. You need to understand that these are people who are accustomed to a life of strife and fighting, that literally fight over scraps of food. Yet it was so peaceful in the field. There was no striving for places in line. They were patient, despite the heat, and they were grateful for the food. They were polite, thankful. To put this in perspective, I drove off-site around 2:30 in order to get some coffee. Not even a block away I saw two men yelling at each other and fighting. When we were loading the left over supplies into the church at 6:00 there were young men and women, right before the doors of the church (which is also right in the middle of downtown) fighting and swearing and arguing. But in that place, at that time, there was complete and utter peace. No fighting, no arguing, no dissension.
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Obedience can change your life

May 04

servantStories faith, hope, obedience, praise, prayer, spiritual warfare, trust 2 Comments

The last five months have been… interesting, exciting, wild, stretching, and growing. God has been moving in amazing ways and I believe it all turned around because we were obedient to Him and did what He asked of my wife and I. This is a bit of a long story, but to give some background, my wife and I had gone through presbytery four years ago and had an amazing and somewhat frightening/exciting Word spoken over us. For those that don’t know what presbytery is, it’s when you fast and pray and seek God and have prophets speak God’s Word over you. For some, it provides life direction, for some it gives insight into the future that God has planned for you, for some it’s just plain old encouragement. If you’ve never been to a prophetic meeting like this, it really is something to behold. The Holy Spirit moves in ways that can’t even be described. Re-reading the word spoken over us still brings tears to my eyes and chills down my spine.

Without getting into it overly much (because there is a lot), the main thrust of the word was that we were going to be deeply rooted in the House of God, and that we would be involved with people. We would have a heart of evangelism, and a hunger in our spirit to see God’s Will done in the earth. That we would go up against the enemy and not be afraid and, just as importantly, have a God-given power over the enemy. That our home would be open, that we would get involved in discipleship and mentoring and getting involved in people’s lives. That we would have a spirit of outreach.

These are beautiful things to hear, but for someone who doesn’t really like people, this wasn’t really what I wanted to hear. I’m not really a people person, and I’m also very cynical and critical of people; part of that has to do with my personality, and part of that is due to my job and its lack of social interactions. My passion for God was most definitely there, but my passion for people was… pretty lacking. My wife is the complete opposite. She loves people, but being told we would be coming up against dark kingdoms really concerned her. I’ve had a past that dealt with spiritual warfare, so I can’t say I was comfortable with it, but it wasn’t scary because I know how powerful God can be in those situations.

So for four years this prophetic word has been remembered and forgotten, ignored and cried out for… but all things are in His timing. And just before last Christmas, He brought us to a whole new level of faith, passion, worship… and looking back now, we can pin-point to exactly when He started unfolding His plan for us.
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Never too late to change

Apr 12

servantStories Canada, drugs, praise, relationship 2 Comments

This is the testimony of how God moved in my life. I was raised in a Christian home. My family and I lived in a trailer park just outside of a big city. We were very poor, but we all loved God and attended church regularly. I was never really liked as a child. Friends were hard to come by, but I didn’t mind too much. We moved into the city into a nice house when I was 13. I attended a new school, where again no one liked me very much. My sister, who was almost 20, left for a program called the Masters Commision in British Columbia. She decided to stay and live there because she felt there was nothing for her where we lived. As I continued to go to youth groups at my church, I found friends there. We were a bit of the “black sheep” type of people, having strange clothing and funny color harido’s, but we liked each other.

When I was a bit into my 14th year, my grandfather died and then my life-long friend who was only 15 overdosed on drugs. It impacted my church friends and I greatly. We stopped hanging out, and went our seperate ways. I slowly stopped going to church and found myself friendless again. I wanted people to like me so bad. So in grade 9 I finally figured out how. I started to say yes to things, and I started to become what others wanted. I’d go to the parties and smoke some weed and drink with them. At school I’d make fun of people, and I began to smoke cigerettes. My life went down hill after this.

I entered high school ready to party. When I was in grade 11, I was introduced to cocaine and crystal meth. I had never done anything like it before. Because cocaine was so expensive and people dont like meth heads, I decided to do ecstasy instead, which is a combination of all drugs in one. Within a year and a bit I had swallowed over 500 pills and had done other numerous amounts of drugs along with it. Life was a blur, and questions were begining to present themselves. Questions like whats next? Why am I here? Is there more? I still belived in God but didn’t want to walk in His ways. At the end of grade 12, I “fell in love” with a woman 5 years older than me. She was smart, sucessful and drug free. I thought this was the answer. So We moved in together and stayed together for two years. I continued smoking pot and drinking alcohol. I realized a year in that life was still not fufilling and I was not happy. I began to drink a lot and my girlfriend and I began to fight more and more, and the fights all the while becoming more and more violent. I needed a change, so I did. I left her and broke her heart, for I had promised to marry her. The next year and a half consisted of numerous women, drugs binges and forgotten nights at the bar.
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Thanking God for Paint on the Walls

Mar 29

servantStories Africa, giving thanks, poverty, USA 1 Comment

Monica had worked in my house in Africa for a few years, but I had never had the opportunity to see her home. At the news of her brother’s and father’s deaths, I went to offer my comfort.

As I entered the 10-by-12 foot room that housed the fifteen family members, I greeted Monica¹s mother. In the dim light, I noticed that the room had little furniture to offer – two chairs and a bench. I was shown to one of the chairs. Monica’s mother was sitting on a grass mat.

The only window was a slit six inches wide and 12 inches tall. As my eyes adjusted, I could see the room had a fresh coat of paint and well-swept floor. There was no ventilation to cool the room. The sweat dripped from my face and arms. How could they stand to live in this place?

I didn¹t know what to say. I told Monica’s mother I was sorry for her loss. Over the next 30 minutes she proceeded to overwhelm me with gratitude. “If it were not for you hiring my daughter, we would not have paint on the walls. Thank you for the paint. If it were not for you, we would still have our leaky roof. But you helped to fix it and we remain dry at night. If it were not for you, we would be fighting mosquitoes throughout the night. But you helped us get a screen door and screen for the window.” The list went on and on. I had no idea! I thought Monica had used her salary for food.

I had gone to minister to this woman, to share of the hope we have in Christ. I went away ministered to and convicted of my own ungratefulness. Have I ever thanked God for the paint on my walls?

Helping the Homeless

Mar 25

servantStories Canada, depression, homeless, hope, sadness 1 Comment

I just felt like I needed to share how God is opening my eyes and growing me. I am most definitely an unfinished work, more coal than diamond, but the Lord is revealing things to me and impressing things upon my heart — particularly the other night. My wife and I are part of a Bible study that for three weeks does a regular Bible study, then on the fourth week go out and do what we’ve been reading about. So we’ve been in Matthew, and as a result we pooled some money and put together some small bags of items for homeless people with the idea that we would wander around downtown and hand them out, witnessing to people.

The bags were quite modest: toothpaste, toothbrush, soap, a comb, shampoo, a pair of socks, some candies and a few other assorted hygiene things, and a business card sized print out of Jeremiah 29:11-13. We chose this because people on the streets need hope (well, we all need hope, but I think they need it in particular), and we wanted to share the fact that God does have good thoughts towards us, and that He wants us to have a future, and hope.

Now, I have to be honest here. I’m not a people person. I’m about as close to an anti-social hermit as you can get while having a family and going to church three times a week. I’m not generally a fan of people — I’m not outgoing, I don’t talk a lot, and I’m quite shy. My appearance probably doesn’t help matters much because I tend to intimidate people (or so I’m told), and my “style” of dress and skin adornments probably doesn’t help either. My wife, on the other hand, is the complete opposite — she talks a lot, she’s bubbly and outgoing, very animated and excited. As you can imagine, this is where God is growing me. Witnessing to street people sounds great, until you actually do it. And, if you’re like me, you’re fervently praying for strength and courage before heading out because this is _WAY_ out of my comfort zone.
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All I ever wanted, all I ever needed was a Father indeed

Mar 17

servantStories Canada, divorce, drugs, fear, praise, prison, relationship, self-esteem, suicide 1 Comment

This is a very powerful testimony that truly speaks of how God loves and longs for the broken-hearted and how, if we let Him, He can do amazing and powerful things in our life.

I was raised up in a Christian home with two loving parents and a younger sister. We lived in a large city for seven years and then moved to a small town just outside it. In the first few years I had a hard time trying to fit in. The kids that I went to school with treated me harshly. They would beat me up and make fun of me every day. Growing up, I lived in a constant fear of people. My self esteem was very low. I thought that I was different and no good. All the things my classmates said were becoming true in MY MIND. At age ten I remember being in my bedroom and crying franticly, pulling on my hair and holding a knife to my neck screaming that I wanted to die. My mother came in, and seeing me like this told me that she loved me and that all would be alright. The words and actions done to me affected me physically and emotionally and, later in life I found out, spiritually. Thankfully these kids that were so mean to me before had started to treat me with some kind of respect.

Now my life seemed to be going in a direction I liked. I had friends and I played in sports teams, all was well. I even started to have girls liking me, something that was fairly new to me. I was really enjoying these times until the unimaginable happened. My father had come home late one night and as I was trying to sleep, he came and gave me a kiss. I knew something was wrong so I pretended to sleep. When he went upstairs I heard him telling my mom that it was over and he was leaving her. I remember my mother screaming in utter terror as her whole life was being taken from her. She pleaded for my dad to not leave. But he left. I didn’t know how to take this so I built up a wall to protect myself AGAIN! My family and I now had to move back to the big city so that my mother could find work and make a life for us. My mom went first to welfare and got some help from them. Then she found a job during the day and went to school at night. As I write and remember what my mom did I can only thank God for giving my mom the strength to endure this while still trying to cope with the loss of her love. THANKS MOM!!!

As a kid I didn’t see things like this as I do now. I felt really abandoned and all alone. I thought that I was a man now because I had to fend for myself, since both parents were not able to be there for me when I wanted. As I started to look for friends, I found some not in school, but outside school. The outsiders, the hurt, and broken, just like me. This started my years of crime and drug abuse. With such a low self esteem and no real guidance, I was easily influenced into many of the things I chose to do. By fifteen years old I was already in prison. The first time in jail, I spent thirteen months in custody. Because it was such a long time when I got out I was worse than before. I didn’t know what to do except go back to ”MY BROS”. They welcomed me with opened arms. It was nice to be wanted. Positive or negative, I just wanted to be accepted and these friends did that in their own way. As my drug abuse escalated so did my issues around me.
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Faith, trust, love, guidance and obedience

Feb 28

servantStories Canada, cancer, conversion, divorce, faith, praise, sickness No Comments

Before I became a Christian I had little faith in mankind and the future of this world. So much that I did not even want to bring kids into a world with such bleak prospects. I lived for weekends to relax and weekdays to make a living. I was in a rut, living without hope or real purpose. To put things in perspective, the early 1970′s were the years of “make love, not war”, hippies, drugs, parties. The world was going to hell in a hand-basket.

My conversion took place in 1974 while attending a Cal Hays crusade with a number of other people from our church. I became convinced by the Holy Spirit that Jesus could bring hope into my empty life. I went forward and received Jesus Christ as my Lord and Saviour.
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