July 26, 2023

“Buenos Dias!” That’s what I said to Bob on this warm, muggy morning as I navigated the moss covered rocks down the short, steep trail to take a look at the river before breakfast. He must have wanted to look at the river also. What’s he doing? Why is wringing his clothes out? Did he wash his clothes in the river? Oh wow, that’s not Bob. Anyway, the man in his boxer shorts, wringing out his clothes was friendly enough to offer a “Buenos Dias” in reply. 

I made my way back up from the river just in time to meet Don and Bob for breakfast. Then we all checked out and loaded the van to attend a worship service at UNPES, the jungle camp we toured yesterday. As we pulled in, however, Luke (8 month old) was especially fussy and really needed a nap. So, we decided to skip the worship service and go on to our lunch stop in Puyo. We were going to be early so we stopped at the Nate Saint House, which serves as a conference center and museum memorializing the five US missionaries that gave their lives taking the gospel to the unreached people group, Huaorani, in the jungles of Ecuador. Jim Elliot famously said, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” Wow!

The museum was closed but we thought we might peek through the windows. Across the street was a hangar and airstrip. The air strip, now paved, was the same one that served the mission team and pilot Nate Saint. As we were hanging around the house a young lady, Maddie, walked up. The Yancey’s greeted her and we chatted for a bit. She is the curator of the museum and offered to open it up for us. I have always loved this story but walking through the museum was fascinating. Before we left, Maddie’s husband walked over and Bob, Don, and Marcos began talking planes and avionics, etc. etc. Marcos is the airplane mechanic at the hangar and works with Mission Aviation Fellowship. Soon enough, he offered for everyone to walk over to the hangar and learn more about the mission work still happening out of that air strip. 

They are currently down to only one pilot but are looking to hire at least two more. They make trips into the jungle to deliver supplies everyday. Sometimes it’s supplies for Compassion International children. They also work with the Ecuadorian government to fly extraction missions for medical emergencies. We also learned there is a large area where Columbia, Ecuador, and Peru meet that is off limits. The governments will not allow anyone to fly into these regions. The assumption is there are dozens of people groups who have never been contacted by the outside world. They are living in the jungle, just as they have been for thousands of years. 

How do we get the gospel to them? What can I do? 

Stop now and pray. Don’t keep reading until you have prayed for these people. 

After lunch, we continued our climb up the mountains to the city of Baños. There’s a beautiful waterfall that comes down into the town. This town is situated in the primary vein of the Andes, near the continental divide. Since we were stopped, I just had to use the baño in the city of Baños. (Probably on funny to English speakers with sophomoric humor.) We tried to tour the Catholic church but it was closed due to a Feast of Jesus’ Grandparents. I’m not sure if that was Jesus from the Bible or a very prominent Jesus (Hay-Soos) from Baños. So, we traveled on to the mountain camp, Chacauco. Chris and his family have lived in one of the cabins for four years.

When we arrived a Chacauco, Chris took us on a tour of the campus. We saw cabins; dorms; dining hall; basketball, volleyball, and pickle ball courts; former location of the prayer chapel; new prayer chapel; a squatter’s house; worship center; lots of gorgeous flowers; a Llama named Fernanda; Yancey’s soon-to-be-completed house; and God gave us a beautiful sunset to highlight to volcano in the distance. There’s an incredible story about God’s providence and faithfulness in acquiring the land for this campus…but that will have to wait until a another day. After we returned from dinner, we got a chance to look up at the sky and see the Cruz del Sur, or Southern Cross constellation.

I still can’t get over, not just unreached people groups, but un-touched people groups. When I look around and see God’s glory displayed in the mountains, the rivers, the volcano, the flowers, I am reminded…none of these bear God’s image, only humans were created Imago Dei. That’s why we’re here. I am on this earth to proclaim the gospel to God’s image bearers. That’s my purpose. What’s your’s? 

Today we met the rest of the Yancey family. We started out with a good breakfast at the hotel. I don’t typically eat wontons and fried plantains for breakfast but I did today. The best part was the coffee and the fresh pineapple. We checked out and headed down to the valley which also means down into the jungle. The elevation near the airport in Quito is about 9,000 feet. This morning was nice and cool and dry! Then we began our climb over the mountains before descending into the valley. We climbed close to 12,000 feet before stopping for lunch at Puerto Mono in Puerto Misahualli: potato soup, grilled pork chop, rice, beans, and jugo jamaica.

After lunch we checked into our hotel, Banana Lodge, and dropped off Madeline, Gloria, Levi, and Luke for afternoon naps. By the way, the altimeter now reads about 1300 feet, the thermometer is several Celcius notches higher, and the hygrometer only reads 100% because that’s as high as it’s capable. Chris took Bob, Don, and me over to the jungle camp, UNPES, to observe a typical youth summer camp. The youth check in on Sunday evening and camp runs from Monday breakfast through Wednesday lunch. (Madeline had told us earlier today that some of the kids, from the same tribe that Jim Elliot and Nate Saint tried to reach, have walked 17 hours in the jungle just to arrive at camp on Sunday night. Parents sent their kids off through the jungle, not on a well worn path, but just through the jungle to go to summer church camp. The same jungle with anacondas, jaguars, etc. Wow!) Anyway, back to camp UNPES. Chris showed us the soccer field, swimming pool, kitchen, dining hall, and training area for pastor and church leaders. Then we made our way to the arena where all the teens were gathered for worship. We heard them sing a few songs but the excitement was all about the race…

The teens were divided into 4 teams, rojo, amarilljo, azul, y verde. There were about 75 students on each team. The teams were released in 10 minute increments to compete against the clock. We got to watch part of the race. When it was time to go, the teenagers would sprint uphill to a water balloon station. Only these were no tennis ball-sized water balloons; they were at least the size of volleyballs and players had to bust them by hugging each other. Next they head to the pool to look for rocks on the bottom. Kids had zero regard for clothing, zero, though some did take their shoes off. Many jumped in with bluejeans, dresses, etc. I’m not exactly sure which route was next but they had to climb a muddy hill with a rope, army crawl downhill under tires buried in mud, run through the jungle, crawl in the mud under a system of ropes, and climb a utility pole to reach the prize at the top. I noticed some never put their shoes back on after the pool. What a crazy sight! And all the smiles and laughter!

Before we left, we met Pastor Jorge. He’s a pastoral giant in my book. He has planted over 35 churches and the one he leads now has planted 15. He looks to train up men from within his own congregation and send them to be pastors at new church plants. He also looks within his own church to fulfill ministry positions. He says the benefit is you already know the character and work ethic, you know their doctrine, you know their family. When you hire someone from outside the church, you don’t really know what kind of man you’re hiring. I told him I loved that model and wished more churches in America would do this.

After our tour of the camp concluded we met back up with the rest of the Yancey family and headed toward the boat dock on Rio Napo. We went down river (a couple miles?) to a village that, until recently, was only accessible by boat. There’s a museum and zoo there where you can learn about the indigenous people. Our tour guide, Byron, knows Spanish, Quechua, and is learning English. His father-in-law is pastor of the local church but has been sick recently. This has left Byron to lead the church but he admitted he knows he is not a pastor. He asked for prayer before we left and expressed a desire to work with the jungle camp. Our canoe returned just before dark.

We concluded the evening at a nice restaurant sitting outdoors along with the monkeys. After my milanesa, I found some ice cream. Now back at Banana Lodge, it’s time for a shower and some sleep. Tomorrow we leave the jungle to go back to the mountains with cooler temps, lower humidity, fewer bugs, and less oxygen.

Bob. Don. BJ. We left the church about 1:30 this afternoon. Ten hours of travel later, we’ve arrive at the hotel for our first night in Quito. Nothing too extraordinary happened today, other than I woke up in the middle of summer and now it’s time for a nap in the middle of winter.

It’s nice traveling with retired pilots who know the best places to park. Also, the TSA security line was incredibly short. The flight was a little slower than anticipated but still faster than I could have walked here, so no complaints. Hopefully we all get the rest we need for the coming week.

Chris met us at the airport in Quito and helped us get to the hotel. His family traveled to the city but were already at the hotel. We get to meet them at breakfast tomorrow morning and share all the toys and treats from FBC Senoia.

After breakfast, we head down into the valley, into the jungle, to tour camp UNPES. It’ll take a few hours to get to the camp where we will have lunch and observe some of their activities. Mid-afternoon includes a canoe ride on Rio Napo to visit some other areas.

I will be 43 this year and this is the first full day of my life in which Roe v Wade is not the law of the land. I have friends who are overwhelmed with joy, others who are sad, and others still who are enraged. Those who are celebrating do so because they have prayed for and with young pregnant women; counseled young mothers-to-be who are scared; given or donated to countless entities who come alongside and provide care and assistance; adopted, fostered, or supported those who have; given respite care to young mothers who just needed a break; and have seen the joy that a newborn brings. The ones celebrating, at least the ones I know personally, understand love, grace, and mercy. They understand that while mistakes happen, babies are not mistakes. Children bring hope and promise of new life and joy. They are indeed a gift from God. (Psalm 127:3)

From those who are sad and/or angry, I have observed various justifications. “The doctor’s office is too small for a woman, a doctor, and the government.” “I’m not pro-baby killing. I am pro-(insert mother’s name here.)” With these arguments and those similar, I would simply argue, there is at least one more person to consider. And this is where I think the real argument lies. My understanding is life begins at conception and that life is therefore entitled to all the liberties actually provided in the Constitution. Again, when it comes to this argument, I frame it very similarly to the argument against slavery. That slave is a human, not property of its “owner” and deserves every right and protection. I believe everyone, every race, every age, every ability, every human is created by God and in the image of God.

Oftentimes, another argument follows: “If a ‘group of cells’ in the womb is protected then let’s begin child support payments during pregnancy” (or something similar) Simply put…I don’t have a problem with that. In some cases, perhaps a paternity test would need to be established so the right guy is paying, but so what? This would actually be more inline with traditional Christian orthodoxy. The man, the father, cares for his child and the mother of his child. The Bible has a word about this also. (1 Timothy 5:8)

I try to not be lead by my emotions. Rather, I wish to be lead by rational thought. My emotions can cloud my thinking. However, if my emotions accompany, well that just makes life all the more interesting. So yes, today, I am celebrating. I am not happy that “women have had rights taken away.” Rather, I am happy that children will have a chance. I also know that the church, and Christians I know, will continue to support families and champion life. It may take some time, but I pray those who are outraged today will one day see this as a great time in our history.

Due to COVID hitting our household, my family and I were unable to attend church recently. No worries, we’ll just find a good service streaming online. We did. It was great. Some of us were sill in our PJ’s but we each grabbed our Bibles and settled in. The music was upbeat and lively. The lyrics rich in theology and doctrine. The sermon was expository and challenging. I found myself praying for the pastor as he shared his heart, his vision for his church.

But something was…off. It just didn’t feel right. And it had nothing to do with what was on the screen. Actually, I think it was the fact that it was on a screen. Church is the body of Christ. Imagine a part of your body, say your foot, deciding to never join with the rest of your body. Not only would your foot eventually die from not being joined to your body, but your body would not function properly. Something would be missing. That may be a gross parallel, but it’s fitting.

The internet, the information superhighway, has brought us some wonderful things. Ideas. Networking. Research…My kids have no idea what a card catalogue is or why library books have weird numbers and letters on the spine. In an instant, I can open up peer-reviewed articles and any number of books from authors who are experts in their fields of study.

When I want to know something, I just ask the good folks over at Google or, my preference, DuckDuckGo. When I see an actor in a movie and I can’t remember where I’ve seen him before, I just open up my phone and in about 3 clicks, I now know what I didn’t just 10 seconds prior.

You get the idea. I am afraid though, that content has replaced community. I can read about WW2, but that will never replace sitting down with a 95 year old vet and hearing his story. I am in seminary and can take class remotely, via Zoom or Bluejeans, etc. I get the content of the course, but that doesn’t buy me a cup of coffee with the professor or dinner with fellow pastors where we just “talk shop.”

We are intended to live in community. Even more so for the church. While I am grateful for the church that live-streamed last Sunday. I pray that never becomes common place for my family. The handshakes, the conversations before and after worship, I missed those. The off-key singer three pews to the right, that knows it isn’t the tenor of the voice but the posture of the heart that matters most. I missed the light that flickers over the piano every couple minutes; the stains on the carpet; the same old altar that has heard the prayers and soaked the tears of faithful saints throughout the ages; the old pulpit where the gospel has been proclaimed, wedding vows exchanged, and lives changed; the hearty “Amen!” from the faithful old saint…no, my couch sufficed for a day. But ain’t nothing like being in church.

Acts 8

Here we have Philip, a deacon in the early church, one of the seven chosen according to Acts 6:5. As we open chapter 8, we’ve already encountered another deacon (Stephen, chapter 6-7) and seen his life taken. It’s interesting to me that the religious elite of the day, who wanted to stop the teachings promoted by the followers of Jesus, actually are helping fulfill some of His last words as recorded in Acts 1:8 “…you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, Judea, Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

They grabbed Stephen and threw him out of the city, Jerusalem. Now, he is preaching beyond the walls of the city, in the providence of Judea. Even at his death, Stephen utters words eerily similar to those of Jesus on the cross. “Forgive them.” “Receive my spirit.” Only that then, Jesus was praying to the Father and now, Stephen is praying to Jesus.

But alas, now we’re on to chapter 8. Again, have the followers of Jesus been witnesses in Jerusalem? Indeed. Has Stephen born witness in Judea? Yes. Furthermore, Acts 8:1 tells us, “On that day a severe persecution broke out against the church in Jerusalem, and all except the apostles were scattered throughout the land of Judea and Samaria.”

Ain’t that something? Here we have those opposed to Jesus of Nazareth actually helping His cause. You can shut up the preacher. You can scatter the flock. But you can’t stop the gospel. The Spirit comes and goes like the wind. Just look back at Acts 4. The very night that Peter and John are arrested, 5,000 men believe!

Ok, back to chapter 8. Of those who were “scattered,” Philip went to a city in Samaria. (Acts 1:8 again) There he began to preach and perform miracles, “so there was great joy in that city.”

Let’s move on to 8:26 Philip is led by an angel to a certain place along the road from Jerusalem to Gaza. There he encounters an Ethiopian official who has somehow sequestered a portion of an old writing of one of the prophets. Untrained and foreign to the culture of Judaism, the Ethiopian didn’t understand what he was reading. Philip offered to help him. Philip must have identified himself or at least been easily recognizable as a Jew. The Ethiopian asked “Who is the prophet talking about?” Philip replied, “Jesus” and told him all the good news about the Him, beginning with the very scripture he was holding.

Aaron Jeoffrey wrote a song awhile back entitled, “He Is.” The lyrics of which are here. Basically, the Old Covenant is a testament to the coming Messiah. The New Covenant is a testament of the crucified and risen Savior and Lord, Jesus the Christ. It’s all about Jesus. And that’s all that Philip had to share.

And that’s all you and I have. It’s all we have and it’s all we have to share. The gospel has been preached in Jerusalem, in Judea, in Samaria, but we’ve still got work to do to reach “the ends of the earth.” May we pray and give and go, until the whole world knows…Jesus.

This is Thursday night. Last night was late and this morning was a little early so I apologize there was no update. Yesterday we stopped by the regional airport to try and get information on flights from Quito to Esmeraldes, which would sure beat an 8 hour ride through the mountains. As it now stands, we think because of COVID, there are no commercial flights. However, there are charter flights. But, these 6-passenger flights are super expensive and not ideal for a mission trip.

We then took some long routes through country side to reach some remote villages where there is no gospel presence. Two of these villages are of particular interest to the missionaries here. They have soccer fields and/or large community buildings where a church could meet. We are also looking for decent housing for teams that may come in the future. Ideally, the team would stay close to the work but that isn’t always the possible.

We also stopped at a large farm that belongs to a husband and wife that Johnny knows. The wife is a believer but doesn’t like the Catholic or charismatic churches that are nearby. She was thrilled to learn that Johnny had recently started church in a nearby village, Palestina. The farm or ranch has cottages, tree houses, where guest can stay. One of the houses shares its tree with a sloth! How cool! The name of the ranch is Adonay.

Last night’s meal was a special treat at a restaurant that is a little ways out from town. The restaurant and village is where the road ends and turns into a swinging bridge. Yep, we crossed the bridge over this beautiful river to get to the village and restaurant. I had shrimp cooked in coconut milk.

I lied earlier. Last night wasn’t so late, but I was really tired. So I went to bed by about 8:30.

Today was an adventure. We traveled down a cobblestone road for about an hour and a half before finally reaching a village whose name I don’t recall and met a missionary, Rocio. She is from the region but studied in one of Ecuador’s large cities. While attending the University she went to church and became a believer. She is now sponsored by her church as a missionary to her own people. She took us to San Fransisco. (No, not that San Francisco) to get in a canoe. Farther down the river we visited 3 villages, which are only accessible by boat.

It was a truly awesome experience, but also heartbreaking / gut wrenching. These people do not know the Lord. Who will tell them? Who will go? As of right now, if you fly from the US, you would take one day to fly. One day to drive from Quito. Another 2-3 hours to reach the villages. It would be most effective to stay the night in the village. Pack your food, pack your hammock, pack your water. But the fact is, the very reason there remains unreached people is because they are not easily accessible. So again, who will go? Is it you? (I ask my self this question.)

Who is dying apart from Jesus today? Do we as believers really believe in heaven and hell? Do we really believe that Jesus is the only way? Then why are there still unreached people?

Yes, today was convicting. Lord, forgive me. Help me.

Our accommodations for Monday were very nice. Comfy bed. Warm water. Nice breakfast with cafe con leche, eggs, toast, and blackberry juice. We soon departed and began our 8 hour journey to Esmeraldes. We started in the mountains near 10,000 feet in elevation. About 2 1/2 hours later we were closer to sea level. The foliage change was dramatic and there were some amazing water falls. We had lunch at a roadside restaurant in one of the small towns: beef rib soup, fried fish, rice and beans.

We discussed much about the culture of the Afro-Ecuadorians along the way. From my perspective, it seems that the ungodly aspects of Western culture creep into remote societies much quicker than the gospel, but praise God for Johnny and Donna Maust who are doing God’s work among the people. In just a few years, they have planted 6 churches. As it stands now, Johnny is still leading 5 of them. He has a disciple from Ecuador, Jon, who is leading one of the others. One of his prayers is to continue to develop leaders who will become elders and lead their local congregations.

After checking into our hotel where we will be for the next 4 nights, I took a quick 30 minute nap. It was much needed. We then headed off with Johnny to visit some of the local villages, Rio Verdes, Penas Blancas, Las Delicious. One of the church members and family prepared smoked duck in coconut sauce for us. Amazing! We also had lemonade, homemade cheese, and rice. There was also an interesting drink made from cocoa nut. It was cold and had a thick milk-like texture. I wasn’t a fan, but when you are given something, you drink/eat it. (It was just the way I like it…wink, wink.)

After dinner was a real treat. We continued down a stone covered, bumpy, dirt road for maybe 5 miles and reached the local school where the church services are held every Tuesday night. We got to play some games with the kids beforehand but soon were treated to singing acapella several songs. Then Johnny led a teaching from Luke 8 and the parable of the seeds/soils. The church was engaged in his teaching and you could just sense how the Spirit filled that outdoor arena.

Side note: The singing in acapella isn’t by choice so much as by necessity. If they had instruments and the talent, they would welcome them and use them.

As I write this, it is Wednesday morning. We had a hot and humid night sleeping under mosquito nets. After breakfast we will depart again to Rio Verde and go further into two remote areas where Johnny wishes to begin two more church plants. We will be looking to see how our church and/or churches in our area can partner with him here in the future.

This is exciting stuff. NEVER let ANYONE tell you following Jesus is boring. And I don’t mean the food, culture, etc. That’s all well and good, but seeing people who’ve never heard about Jesus, trust him. Then to see fruit of discipleship. I pray I have more to report tonight or tomorrow morning. Blessings.

In less than a week, I, along with two other men, will be headed south to meet a missionary couple in Ecuador. We want to get to know the missionaries and capture their vision for the area. Hopefully, we can bring their vision back to the churches within the Western Region of Georgia Baptist Mission Board. You can read more about Johnny and Donna Maust here.

Would you pray for us? Pray for all the logistics to run smoothly. Pray for our health as we travel. Pray that we correctly understand God’s heart for these people, that we would see what He sees.

Thus far, all three of us have tested negative for COVID so that is a major hurdle. We will need another negative test next Thursday so that we may return to the US. Please pray for that.

Also, pray that we are able to make real, meaningful connections with the Afro-Ecuadorians. We want to see these people reached with the gospel of Jesus Christ and for churches to be planted among them. We want them to grow and disciple themselves to reach their own families. Wouldn’t be something to see God do a mighty work among this people group?

Hopefully, I will be able to post updates throughout the week. Check back here if you want to learn more about our trip and how you can pray, give, or go to reach people with the gospel. To the ends of the earth. (Matt 28:18-20, Acts 1:8, Rom 10:13-15)

I don’t typically speak out on matters of national prominence, at least not publicly or on social media. I have many of those conversations privately. I’ve discussed at length my thoughts about our nation’s and state’s response to COVID-19. I have my thoughts on the veracity of the pandemic and the constitutionality of “shutdowns,” but I’ll save those for another time. What I want to discuss tonight is prompted by the murder of Ahmaud Arbery. Like I said, I usually reserve my thoughts for those who are among my flock, my congregants; That’s where God has called me. But I also know there are others, perhaps on social media, that may read this as well. Further, I’ve seen where people have called on white evangelicals to speak out. So, here I am. I’m speaking out. If that makes me “woke” then so be it.

First of all, Ecclesiastes tells us there is a time to mourn…and that time is now. After seeing this story surface last night, it’s been on my mind all day. I can’t fathom what Ahmaud’s family is going through, but it doesn’t end there. I can’t imagine what my brothers, who happen to have darker shades of skin than me, are going through. I pray for them. I also pray for pastors and churches in Ahmaud’s community. I know some of them. This is absolutely heartbreaking.

Many people have rightly called this racism, but I believe there are stronger words: Hatred. Evil. Sinister. Demonic. Satanic. I used to be conflicted about how governments enact justice, for I understand that God’s forgiveness extends even to the most evil of humans. But eternal justification does not remove earthly condemnation and punishment. Forgiveness doesn’t mean that past sins hold no ramification on future events. Like a dog that returns to its vomit is a fool who repeats his folly. (Prov. 26:11) A convicted child abuser may be forgiven, but he doesn’t get to be a babysitter. Therefore, I pray that our justice system will act diligently, to the fullest extent of the law, and swiftly in this situation. This has to stop. At the same time, I pray that the perpetrators come to know and understand the grace of God. 

I believe racism is a symptom. We will never end racism until we attack the underlying cause and to do so, we must return to using a word that has become taboo – SIN. We must recognize sin and call it what it is. Only then we will be able to correctly understand the solution. John tells us that Christ came not to judge the world but to save it. (John 3:16-17)   There is an answer to evil and His name is Jesus.

Let’s be careful not to pick and choose which sins get our attention. In this instance, it’s racism, murder, hatred. If we only attack the manifestations of sins, then we are still not getting at the problem. Something supernatural must take place within the human heart. Behavior modification only works to teach your dog new tricks. It does nothing to root out evil in man’s hearts.

I grieve today but I have hope about the future. One day, there will be no more tears. No more mourning. No more sadness. No more death. For Jesus Christ is the eternal King. Justice will finally be realized. My prayer for you, if you are still reading this, is that you know King Jesus. And if you do, I pray that you seek ways to truly love your brother. Listen to him. Seek to understand. Even so, come Lord Jesus.