Saturday, February 25, 2012

THE BIG PIG RACE!


The kids like me because I have novel ideas; "Lets have a pig race!" I yelled, "winner gets $2!!!"

"Yeah!!!" the kids yelled back.

So yesterday we had the big pig race for the kids at Tribe of Jesus orphanage. Oh, we've had races before only we had been using a fast little dog ... she was white and loved to race, well she's a mother now and has lost her zeal for running ... and if she did run we would have to get her an eight-way bra, if you know what I mean.

Fortunately the orphanage has several pigs so, well, lets try a pig. The first little pig they chose was a squealer and sort of retarded. He just stopped and let himself be caught ... that wouldn't do; so we chose a bigger and faster pig.

The kids set the squealing pig down on the dirt, gave it a spank and let it go ... and go it did ... right out the orphanage gate and up the dirt road (squealing with joy), with thirty kids trailing behind trying to grab it! For the one who could catch it, two dollars! The promise of $2 for the winner was like an after-burner, producing a great deal of speed on the kid's part.

Well, the pig ran and the kids ran, and the pig ran and the kids kept running and ... unfortunately the pig won by a large margin! In fact I don't know where the thing is by now, maybe Ensanada or somewhere in south Baja California. Who knows maybe by now he's smushed in guacamole between a hundred tortillas.

I wonder if pigs have a homing instinct? Tomorrow I guess I'll have to buy a whole pig.

Pig chases are out for the time being.

Tuesday, February 21, 2012

ENCOUNTER WITH THE WILD SIDE

I know Pedrigal and it’s a dangerous barrio; full of drugs and wild teens. I drove off the main road in Pedrigal onto a winding narrow dead-end road. Sections of the road were thick with mud, I had to negotiate around some old tires and a dog or two. While I slowly drove down the road, I noted up to the left, a couple of older teens looking at us from the top of the main road, soon a few more joined them. Then all of them clambered down the dirt wall surrounding my car. It was one of those nervous moments.

An old man in gang-land!

I opened the window ... one of the guys came up with a big smile and said "Hi von!. How are you doing?"

Whew!

They just wanted to say "Hi," and said I used to shower them when they were kids. In our conversation I found they were returning from working at the Tijuana dump some twenty miles away; where they collect aluminum, copper, glass, cardboard, whatever. They had been up since 4:30am and were back in the late afternoon. Sweating 10 hours in their world of trash; only to make a few pesos ... not enough to live on. (I had more than $500. on me, no one was out to get me.)


Now I usually have some candy bars, cola or popcorn in my car for such occasions, this time I was clean out of everything.

I remembered I had one of my simple game boards for kids to play and earn small chocolates.

Ah an Idea!

I opened the back of the SUV and showed them the game, and how to play it ... however instead of chocolates, I told them I would give dollars to the winners. Big wide smiles!

Boy, they got into it!

About seven or eight dollars later ... they all thanked me ... they had to leave. One young man showed me a photo of his little daughter and asked me if I could get him a tarp, as his roof leaked.

Overall, a nice afternoon encounter with the wild side of Pedrigal.


A big thanks to all of you who pray for me!

Monday, February 20, 2012

CHILD LABOR?


I've known Brandon for most of his twelve years. Brandon is thin and rather small for his age but he's a willing worker. He lives in a squatters neighborhood. is father, like many fathers, is unemployed and the family of five is often hungry, and can barely make school costs.

It isn't easy living on the other side.

Brandon found a job about a mile away at a little market where he boxes groceries and carries them out to the cars for the shoppers; he makes his tips that way. It's amazing but he often makes fifty to sixty dollar week. Brandon works after school from three in the afternoon to nine at night six days a week.

Long hours for a young boy. He has one day off.

So it's school in the morning and work at night. He splits his income with the family for food.

"Child labor, how horrible," the Liberal Feminist cry.

Twelve year old Brandon isn't being exploited, he's learning discipline and what it takes to be a man. He's learning responsibility ... So much better than spending hours watching black and white T.V or huddled in a dark corner playing with his Gameboy ... or passing drugs with his friends.

Across the fence in rich America, little by little the Liberals among us have taken away what made America great ... 'real' men. They have taken responsibility, discipline and competitiveness out of a boy's curriculum.

Feminists, you haven't a clue as to what it takes to make a real man!

Thumbs up Brandon, keep your school grades up, keep working hard and become a man!

Thursday, February 16, 2012

ARE THERE UN-SAVABLE PEOPLE?


A man swimming off the California coast. A strong swimmer stroking his way into deep water, enjoying his swim. A few men in a fishing skiff close by were watching him. Suddenly one of the men pointed; "Look, there's a shark fin!" Then they noticed another fin appear close to the swimmer, before they could yell, a third fin appeared. Judging by the fins these were big sharks. The skiff headed to the swimmer yelling "sharks!, sharks"! The swimmer waved them off; "probably dolphins" he yelled back. No! There are three big sharks circling you ... they threw a rope to the swimmer, "Quick, grab the line we'll pull you aboard!" The skiff drew near the swimmer, the men yelling, "Sharks, quick, grab the line come aboard!"

The man kept swimming. Suddenly he disappeared; the water slowly turned red.

This swimmer was "un-savable." He didn't realize his peril and he rejected the very thing, and only thing that could save him.

Or how about this?

A well trained swimmer decided to try for a world record and swim from the California coast to Hawaii. He was convinced he could make it. Amid camera clicks and flashes he jumped into the water, and with two small boats trailing him he headed west. Stroke after stroke, mile after mile he pressed on ... day after day. The poor man was getting exhausted; but he was stubborn! His goal was happy tropical Hawaii. The strokes now were slow and painful. By now the sharks were circling him. Those in the small boats pleaded with him ... reach out, we'll save you! Exhausted he slipped under the water ... he too, was un-savable. He wouldn't realize the danger he was in. From the start this man wouldn't accept the truth. Isn't it true that a fool is un-savable? ("The fool has said in his heart, there is no God")

Two physical examples of being literally un-savable!

When it comes to Salvation, are there those who are un-savable? Of course.

Most of us don't feel we need to be saved. A sinner? Who isn't? I'm just like everyone else. A good God would never create an eternal hell ... hell would be too small to fit in all of us! Etc, Etc.

Call it ignorance, call it pride, call it deception or call it whatever you wish. The end is the same. Un-savable!

In one sense most of earth's population is un-savable.

Take an atheist as an example of an un-savable person.

Remember it's the job of the Holy Spirit to convict or convince a man both of his sinful condition and his need for God. The Holy Spirit may use the Word or he may use the mouth of a Believer. (John 16:8) ... the act of saving; salvation is a gift of God. A miracle accomplished by God in the heart of a man.

It's my job to pray ... It's true, that I can help save the savable ... but, the un-savable? ... that's not my responsibility.

Wednesday, February 08, 2012

LITTLE MARIBEL


The hillsides of barrio Laguna are covered with small, unorganized little one and two room shacks. People in our areas walk or ride small busses. On school days Maria would carry her little eight-year-old Maribel up the hillsides to and from her school. No one seemed to think it odd that Maribel was carried up the hills on the back of her mother.

Maribel was born with a defective heart, and as she got older she just didn't have the energy to climb the hills to school; so mom would carry her. From time to time Maria and Maribel would visit Hortensia. Lips and fingers slightly blue told the story of Maribell's growing problem.

Miguel, her father, is a hard worker and pays the family's medical insurance each month. About $75.

The Government's social security hospital was so slow in responding to their requests for help. Meanwhile Maribel grew weaker.

Finally word came from the hospital that a date was set and a specialist chosen to operate on the little girl's heart. The date just two months way. Good news!

Bad news followed. About the same time Miguel lost his job and couldn't continue his insurance ... without insurance the date and procedure would be canceled.

That's where you entered the picture. Thank you Lord for our general fund. Maribel has had her first operation, and her second (and hopefully the last) one is two weeks away. The cost to Spectrum was only a few hundred dollars.

Maribel and her family are incredibly grateful. Hortensia has had many flowers and hugs from Maribel as well as her mom. I have a specially created envelope and colorful thank you letter from a special little eight year old, with a new life.

How can those with nothing thank those with everything?

Spectrum Ministries is a general term. It's easier to understand our ministry when we break it down into families and kids.

Maribel, we love you.

Friday, February 03, 2012

THESE BONES


Remember that old African American Spiritual "Dry Bones"? "Dem bones, dem bones, dem dry bones"  I've always loved the energy and truth of that song.

Okay, Ezekiel! Bring life to these dry old bones!

With due respect to my mother and father; God created and put a soul in this body called von. I was created an eternal being and placed in a temporary flesh vehicle. As in every living thing God has created, I was created on purpose, for a purpose.

God is not the author of accidents. God is not the author of chance.

God is the author of purpose.

I was quite a way into my Christian pilgrimage before I realized an important truth about of God's anatomy ... God has no hands, and He needs no hands.

I was created to be God's hands ... and on occasion His voice.

What an awareness ... what a privilege.

Why did it take me so long to find out what my hands were designed for?

Praise God, I have another day to bless others .... hands, do your job.

Read: Ezekiel  37:4