ON AGAIN, OFF AGAIN, PROCEDURE

Francisco and his mother met us yesterday. The major operation of placing a made to fit plastic cap over a portion of his brain where there is no bone was postponed for another several weeks. Some technical reason.

You could tell Francisco was uneasy about this.

Hortensia took advantage of his fear by reinforcing the Gospel Francisco had heard when he was younger. My comment was simple ... "As long as God has spared your life, he must have a special purpose for you!" I followed up by asking him, "Do you have a Bible?" The question made him uncomfortable, first he said yes and then he said no, then it sort of all came out. He was ashamed to admit that the accident had taken away his ability to read and write. "The letters to make words just don't come together right" he said.

We'll get him a Bible and his mother said she will read it to him.

"Hortensia." He said, "I've wanted so bad to write a note to you and Von, thanking you for all the help you've been ... but I can't think the letters for words and I was ashamed to ask someone else to write the note." And he gave us each a long hug before we left. (His mother has written a long thank you note.)

Francisco's a brave kid facing the unknown, he needs our prayers that this whole thing will work out to really change this boy's life. For the Glory of God.

MIDLIFE CRISES!

With women it's called menopause, but with us men its referred to as "Midlife Change" or "Midlife-Crises" and I've seen it happen. A man gets about middle age and decides he can d better, so he dumps his wife and kids, buys a new motorcycle and drives off into the sunset with his secretary.

Something like that.

Well, my midlife crises came a little late. Real late. In my 80's ... to be exact in my 84th year.

My late life crises is called retirement.

As I'm not really into being retired, I'm making a new start in ministry. Late I am, but new it will be. Wow! Retired. Flying on my own wings once again.

I'm no longer Spectrum and Spectrum is no longer me. This afternoon we made a clean amiable break. Spectrum was more than kind in giving me a package of my salary ($1,500 per month) as well as my medical insurance.

Now to continue in Ministry.

Happy as I am to have my salary taken care of, I now have to pull together some of my friends to provide me with prayer and ministry money to continue helping me support the poor and in many cases the desperate. Yesterday it was Spectrum's money, today it will be what money I can generate.

You can send your comments and checks (made out to DeAnza Community Church) to:

Pastor Von

1043 Emma Drive.
Cardiff, CA 92001

If you don't need a tax exemption, simply write a check to:

Pastor Von

1043 Emma Dr.
Cardiff, CA 92001

Or, you can donate though our new web site at http://ministry.pastorvon.com/

GOOD LORD! MY CAR'S AN ALCOHOLIC!

I can't pass a gas station without my car urging me to go in for just a little more juice.

On one of my first trips to Brazil I noted two interesting things, first, was the fact that almost every vehicle I saw was a Volkswagen and second, all of them were rolling alcoholics!

Brazil has plenty of sugar cane and from this cane they make alcohol and a good portion of this alcohol goes to fueling their vehicles.

I was content to leave that to Brazil; I prefer the old fashion fossil-fuel. I might add I flew home on a fossil fueled plane.

I live in the bankrupt State of California where each summer they split our fuel with alcohol. You can smell it at the pump as you watch your numbers spin ever higher. The benefits of this summer mix are two. First, the price is higher for this mix, and second it gives you less mileage ... oh yes, and it's been proven that the summer fuel mix doesn't help the environment that much. So much for the mix. (Cheers for the corn farmers, they win.)

Drinking while driving is dangerous enough without driving a drinking car.

Like I said; its summer and my car has become an alcoholic and can hardly pass a gas station or even a bar without wanting to turn in ... for ... just a little more.

FALLING THROUGH THE CRACKS

As a youngster in California I lived near several beaches. I found the "board-walk" an interesting place. The board-walk at the beaches I lived near was a walkway of wooden boards above the sand. Each board laying side by side was about a half-inch from the next one.

Crawling under the board-walk wasn't hard and afforded a nice shady spot where a variety of small stuff would fall. There was always an interesting scattering of trash and on occasion, treasure. Under the board-walk were gum wrappers and chewed gum, candy, cigarette butts; anything less than a half an inch, gravity would claim and it would fall to the lowest level.

With the trash there would be the occasional penny, nickel or dime ... if it was a very lucky day.

The world in which I minister is indeed below the social board-walk. Yesterday was a day interacting with the lowest and most hurting social level. A day in which the only hope was the sunshine that came from far above the board walk.

The call was "von, can you get my son into an orphanage?"

I entered the small room and met the "family" of three. Mom, her boyfriend and tall slender Alex, her twelve year old son. Alex is quite honest about his past and that he's homosexual and a thief ... and has run away from two other orphanages. Abused since age eight there isn't much left for this twelve year old. The two want him out ... not only out of the bed all three sleep in, but out of the house (room.)

I watched the boy as they listed his failures. He sat quiet, and motionless, accepting the truthful abuse. Alex is on his way to becoming worthless trash working the lowest level of society.

As happy and carefree as the traffic above, is the lonely pain below. Alex has fallen through.

God sees Alex as treasure, society sees him as trash!

Orphanage? No orphanage will take a chance with a kid like Alex.

Please pray for us as we work this seemingly hopeless strata.

We care because He cares.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!

At my age, I'm classed as a senior citizen, on Social Security, and of course, I'm on a limited income. So when the BIG day comes, my annual Birthday, I have to limit my spending. I have to be responsible.

What does a senior citizen really need to put together a real, yet conservative party of one?

A von Birthday kit ... and that's what I got!

I knew I needed a fire extinguisher and fortunately I had one in my garage. On an occasion such as this one needs to consider safety. Fire. Flame. You know!

Well, I thought it over and made a trip to the dollar store a few blocks away to make some responsible purchases. Now the dollar store is full of great and colorful Chinese bargains and indeed one is tempted.

Now what did I need?

A Birthday Cake! To be honest, a simple cup-cake would do, nothing large and of course a candle to symbolize the 84 plus years I've been around ... I couldn't find the old fashioned kind, so a survival candle will have to do. Lets face it, a candle is a candle. A large box of matches, as I have a little trouble getting a match to burn.

I picked up an inexpensive little silly birthday hat to liven up the party. An atmosphere thing.

Oh yeah, I got a card this year, thought I would include it in the photo!

Well, the party was going well until the burning candle fell down and lit the box of matches. Truthfully it was quite exciting for a short time ... At my age almost anything is exciting! I had to use the extinguisher, which pretty well blew the party away!

Hope it works out better next year ... if I'm still around.

MAN OF GOD SCREWS UP

Sunday I was slowly driving in Tijuana's Red-light district, which we call "The North Zone". (Zona Norte) I was to preach in a local Church called "The Rock" (La Roca) I love that Church and preach there about once a month.

I was about to make a right turn, when I noticed a policeman watching me. Oh! Oh! My seat belt! "Oh Lord help me!!" I quickly tried to buckle it, but he caught me, red lights and all ... he pulled me over! "You didn't have your seat-belt on did you?" (By then I had it on!) Well, I couldn't lie, after all I'm a Christian and to be preaching in about ten minutes. "No sir I replied." "You know that's against the law here," he said. "But officer I was traveling so slow ..." "He interrupted me." I'll have to give you a ticket." Looking sad and about to cry! "But Officer, I'm to be preaching at LaRoca Church over here, and I pointed; in about ten minutes, this will make me late." "Well, the Officer replied ... there is a Police station near the Church."

I sat, there defeated, looking old, sad, and pathetic.

The Officer broke the silence. "Maybe we can work things out..." Cheers! I was waiting for that statement. I said " How much will a thing like this cost me?" As I was saying this he slipped a small notebook on top of my instrument panel. I looked pained, "But officer I have only ten dollars on me." and I started reaching into my pocket.

I heard him say "Ten dollars? That won't make much of a breakfast."

Well, I thought I only had a ten ... BUT, NO ... it was a twenty!

"Oh Man! I said, it's a twenty. He smiled and replied. "That will make a much better breakfast" and he took the twenty! I looked at the twenty, and the smiling officer, and asked if he had change, he said no! (I really asked him that!) We left on good terms. I put the seat belt on for the next three blocks.

I was on time. The sermon was good ... even though it was delivered by an apprehended criminal who committed a serious crime.

I've worked in Mexico for half a century. I understand Mexico. Mexico is corrupt completely, from the top down to the cop on the street ... but it's sort of an honest corruption. I can work with it, I understand it.

Have a nice breakfast Officer, you've been working hard.

I happen to be a citizen of good clean Christian America. Where there is just as much corruption if not more, but it's an invisible and dishonest corruption. We paint our corruption over with a convenient Judio-Christian whitewash and pretend it doesn't exist.

I shouldn't blame our Cops ... as city employees, they do all they can to bring in lots and lots of revenue!

LINK IN A CHAIN

Dear Pastor von,

I'm heading out to work, so I'll be short.

Words cannot express the gratitude we feel as we are reminded of how you opened God's Word to us when we were young.

The excitement has never diminished, even though many years have passed.

Even this morning, one of our grandchildren said to me "Poppy, I want to have God in my heart." She folded her little hands and said "dear Jesus ... please come into my heart."

 ... It was so thrilling to have been there.

You are a very important link in the chain of Faith in our family.

God Bless you Pastor von, Rob and Carol Van Horn.

My reply:

Early in life I made a decision to cancel out of the traditional life of marriage, kids and family and dedicate my life, and time, to God's work. I figured I could do this better being single. Looking back, I don't think I've made a mistake, even though at 83, I have no family as such, and in that sense, I look forward to a rather lonely future. Out-living many of my peers produces a strange sort of lonely feeling too. (Being this old is new to me.)

Letters and notes like this are a real encouragement, and remind me that I'm actually not alone; I'm indeed part of a larger family. A spiritual father to some, even grandfather to others. What a privilege to be "a link in a chain of faith" in a family's life. A sweet letter indeed.

Thanks Rob and Carol! You didn't just make my day, you made my whole week!

DAVID'S SURGERY UPDATE

A little update on our boy David and his mom way down in huge Mexico City. As you might remember David's surgery by a leading specialist would be free if we could get him to the Doctor's Hospital in Mexico City. We made it possible for David and his mother to fly down early so his doctor could make some last minute checks. David's mother was praying that his long six hour surgery would be finished successfully.

For three days after the major abdominal surgery, it was touch and go. He was hooked up to tubes, David developed a high fever and high-blood pressure ... and was in a lot of pain. His doctor works closely with him and will supervise some further work here in Tijuana.

We're all thankful now that David's doing better and is out of intensive care. He's in a different facility but is in constant contact with his doctor.

It will be a few more weeks and tests, until he will be able to return home. Thanks so much for your prayers ... oh, and little Maribel caught up with me this morning in Laguna. She pulled me down and gave me a big kiss, saying thank you ... and she walked to school. So I pass her kiss on to you who deserve it!

FRANCISCO'S TURN!

His family called on us to help and he was one of our Bible Clubbers.

You might remember reading my post "HEAD FIRST" last December 7th. Teenage Francisco crashed headfirst into a pole! The resulting damage crushed his skull, blinded his left eye and left him slightly crippled. His heart stopped twice as he was being operated on. So Francisco has been through a lot.

They are very poor and the bill for a plastic-cap to be placed over his brain was over a thousand dollars. The government will pay for his surgery. To finance this cap the family begged, scrounged and borrowed all they could from everyone they knew, and they were still short hundreds of dollars. We couldn't say no, so we put in the rest of the dollars to complete the bill.

It's been over a year now. It seems it was very difficult to locate the special plastic to create the cap. Now it's ready.

This afternoon his mother proudly handed me the payment receipt for the plastic-cap and said that the surgery date was set for May 15th. There are still more expenses so the family is selling candy Apples to get some extra money.

They are so grateful for our help which made it possible to get him this surgery and cap. (We're hoping the Candy Apples sell! )

When I asked how Francisco was feeling about his up-coming surgery. His mother was a little hesitant in her reply. "Francisco wants to cancel the surgery ... he's afraid!" Forming the plastic to his brain and placing it over his open brain is indeed a critical surgery. But the family says they will go ahead with the surgery.

His mother asks for our prayers.

OUTREACH?

No, I don't believe in outreach ... and I never have. A few years ago outreach became a popular term ... it came blazing into the Church and before we knew it there were outreaches everywhere. It's still a popular activity ... It's still a popular term!

Back then it sounded so new, so good and so healthy and so out, rather than In!

It seems to me today's Church has always been an outreach Church; that is, the Church reaches out to bring people intoThe building, into the service, into the Believers activities.

"A bring 'em in Church" to teach them a "GO YE" Gospel? This is a paradox at best.

While outreach isn't altogether bad, it isn't altogether what the Lord's Church is all about.

Admittedly I'm using "outreach" in its literal sense; the act of reaching out from where we are to bring people to us; if that's what outreach is, the Church has been doing that for years. What's new about outreach?

As to myself, I'm more of a go-out person than a reach-out person.

Healthier by far is GOING to the need and minister, rather than ask the needy to come to you and be ministered to.

Healthier by far is taking the Gospel to those in darkness rather than pulling a few from their dark world into the light of our nice Church building to hear our preacher present the Gospel.

Be it the Gospel, or ministry ... the Church's calling is to SPREAD OUT rather than reach out. GO YE!

AS A KID SEES IT

It was Pizza night and I had just finished eating a slice of pizza at La Roca's small orphanage in Zona Norte, when Victor came over to me and thanked me for his glasses. He didn't have his glasses on at the time. His thanks threw me off guard. Glasses? Then I remembered; some weeks ago several of the kids in the orphanage needed glasses and Pepe, the Director, asked for our help. Victor, about eleven, was really happy because now he could see the blackboard in his school classroom. Hopefully grades will improve accordingly.

No one prompted him to thank me. It was sincere. It was spontaneous and, well, it was Victor, a cute little boy that appreciated his new glasses. Several of the kids now have their glasses. They look very intellectual, and well ... pretty cool!

Often I've mentioned that I get the thanks you deserve; not that I mind ... but so grateful for you who make it possible.

In the "little-things department" I might mention the five teeth Pepe gave me; each wrapped in a small piece of paper and closed with scotch tape. The younger kids save their teeth until I return because I give them a dollar for their tooth. (Mexico has a tooth-mouse ... but these days he's very poor!) Later that evening little Freddy came up to me with a big smile and handed me a very small bloody-tooth.

He finally got it out!

WHERE THE RUBBER MEETS THE ROAD

Do you ever wonder what happens to your old tires? Almost everywhere you look in my world you will see tires. I don't mean tires on cars but old tires from old cars. Well used American tires. In these barrios of the poor, tires may form the foundation of a house or tires placed on the roof that keep it from blowing away. Many tires create walls or fences.

The most difficult tires to negotiate are old tires that form stairs. Up and down the hillsides tire stairs become a common essential. Dusty in the summer and slippery in the winter.

When we go to visit a family, their shanty is often perched high on the side of a hill with a long line of tire stairs leading to the doorway. Of course when you go up, then you have to come back down and that's the hard part. (Click Photo Above)

Flexible stairs with no handrail is getting a little dangerous for this old man. Stairs like these look daunting when you're in the eighties ... thanks for your prayers for me.

Take another look at these stairs; imagine bringing a load of groceries or gallons of water up to your house, or worse, a heavy tank of propane.

Our ministry is going to the people rather than having them come to us, consequently these conditions become a norm to us. However meeting people where they are; meeting them in their homes we know the truth about what's going on in these houses and communities. We know where the needs are ... and how to direct your giving.

JESUS CHECKS IT OUT

Things were falling apart in Jesus world. A year ago he had quit school to help his mother scavenge metal, cardboard and glass to eke out a living for his five brothers and sisters. The police are searching for his step-father and when caught, he'll be in for a long time.

Pedrigal, the boy's barrio, is as tough as they get. Jesus, 13, and his mother want him to get an education. They talked to me about getting Jesus into an orphanage. One less mouth to feed yet one less kid to help scrounge trash; In their lives a major decision.

I held him by his shoulders, looked him in the eye and asked, "Are you serious about this Jesus?" "Si Pastor von." "Jesus I want you and your mother to think on this a few days and I'll be back to take you to an orphanage, so you can check it out."

He gave me a big hug, which I wasn't expecting from a "cool" thirteen year old boy.

Yesterday we dropped by and he was ready to check the orphanage out. He got into the back seat of my car. I don't think he had ever been in a nice car like mine, he sure checked it all out. I gave him a pair of sunglasses so he could look cool.

Children of Promise Orphanage has a great collection of kids;

Julian and Jesus checked it all out.

"Lets go back so you and your mom can make this decision. Then let us know what you decide." We returned him to his downstairs shack, promising him that we'll be back in a couple of days for his decision.

If he goes, it will be the best decision for him;

For us it will mean more help for her and the other four kids as they struggle for food. Indeed life is a struggle for so many of our people.

A QUIET DEATH

"Von, there's a family that wants you to visit them."

So we headed a few blocks down the road to see them. We walked carefully through the small front yard while Philip's mother, Alecia, held on to their Pit Bull guard dog. We filed into the open door to their small two-room shanty. Philip, a tall good looking sixteen year-old walked into the room along with Paul his thirteen year-old brother. They are not in school.

Alecia attends two of Spectrum's big food give-away days every month. She has to travel quite a distance for the few vegetables she gets. They are very poor. Her husband brings very little money home. Alecias trying to feed the family of eight a better diet. On the stove she had a small pot of vegetables cooking and some corn tortillas on the table.

The evening meal.

Her son Philip, as young as he is, is a serious diabetic! He has to have two insulin shots a day. Also he cannot hear .. it's been a year now without hearing.

Well, as we talked we found that the free insulin Philip was getting from the General Hospital was no longer available, and they had no money to buy more. I sat at the table holding the two empty bottles while trying to explain to Alecia what would happen if he doesn't get his shots on time ... disorientation; an insulin coma and death. I hope I scared her.

We left the family some money both for Philip's insulin and food for all.

In my travels I always ask the Lord to get the money to the right needs, and this was yesterdays answer.

BRIAN'S TOP

I gave Brian a new plastic top! I haven't seen someone so happy in years! He actually jumped up and down in joy.

Just a little $1.20 plastic top!

Brian, his little sister and brother are road-workers ... that is, they have one shovel between them and they fill up chuck-holes in the long winding road that leads to barrio Ijido ... Lets face it, great potential ... the dirt road is nothing BUT chuck-holes. The little girl holds out a can hoping for someone to donate a few pesos.

They know my car and run out to meet me. I generally give them a chocolate bar and sometimes a dollar.

The whole family of seven, including mother, work in two different locations, filling holes and looking for donations. That's their work. That's their living. Indeed they are dirt poor.

I've met their mother and the kids. I've been to their small, rather stark house. One big bed. Roof leaks when it rains.

Brian is only 13. He's not in school, he has to work the road. Money comes hard. Mom's seven months pregnant and not able to work the road for a while.

So now it's up to Brian and his brother and sisters to keep the family in food. (Anyone want to help on food, shoes and schooling?)

Brian was bare-foot and wearing old torn and dirty pants.

But that top! That little top, made it all worth while.

Life is great when you're a kid ... and get a top!

THE TRINITY OF TENSE; PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE

As much as we would like to re-live the past or even alter the past we can't. The past is locked by Divine decree. Every minute that passes forms into a fixed history. The past does not vanish it simply appears again as history.

As much as we would like to know the future, we can't; it too is locked tight. We can predict, but never know for sure.

We are forced to live in the now ... the moving present. The fluid in-between of past and future. The measured ticking of twenty-four hours is the sound of the simple span of now.

What I do now won't alter the past, but it will alter my future and can alter the greater future.

The future is always coming at its consistent, divinely measured speed; whether we like it or not.

I need the simple skill of seeing and taking the opportunities presented me to build the future I want.

Lord, I need your wisdom.

ENERGY

Let's face it, music carries with it a unique energy. Today people are not only attracted to energy and hungry for energy, but we are actually addicted to energy . . in any form, in any way we can get it.

There is platform energy. "Entertainment energy" is another form of transferable energy. Singers, bands, groups ... secular music is a great example of a popular source of what I call, platform energy. Dynamic personalities, dynamic beat, add to the projected energy. (Lyrics? No way!)

Good question: Why do you or I like the music and musical groups we like? What do we get from the music? For an example, why do we prefer a live outdoor concert to a simple CD or DVD? Could it be projected energy?

The transfer of energy from the platform to the seat ... the performers to the hearer. A growing phenomena. We love it and we pay big bucks for it!

A truly vicarious experience; a vicarious transfer of energy by music ... by beat.

This is true even in listening to speakers or preachers. Why do we prefer a moving dynamic speaker to a statue like academic speaker. Of course the content is important ... but "dynamic" satisfies an inner energy hunger. The dynamic speaker transfers energy to his audience. He's a giver, we're takers. He's there to give we're there to take.

We travel miles simply to get a charge, by a big name charger.

Caution! The medium of secular "energy" music, can be caught by the Church ... misunderstood and misused. Caution! Culture can invade and corrupt the simplicity of honest worship in our Lord's Church. Synthetic man made energy vs God's Holy energy.

Have I a point here?

Man made energy is less expensive and sadly ... often more to our liking.

THERMOSTATS

We all know about thermostats. There are thermostats in cars, homes and of course Churches have thermostats too. Temperature controllers. Ah man's technology!

Our church was small, and we had a lot to learn ... one lesson was where to locate the thermostat. Well, at first our Sanctuary thermostat was available to all and we never gave it much thought.

The location and thermostat soon became a tricky problem, we found everyone seemed to have a different opinion on what was a comfortable temperature.

A couple of ladies with "hot flashes" thought it was always too warm so they felt a liberty to cool the ambient temperature down ... and they did. It was too cool for old Richard and Florence, so they warmed it up a bit. For skinny people it seemed always too cool and for heaver people it always seemed too warm. They all took a turn at adjusting our thermostat.

It seemed we all had a different idea of what the temperature of the Church should be.

We had to re-think the thermostat issue.

I think you can see where I'm going here ...

A long time ago the Lord checked on the temperature of His Laodicean Church. Their thermostat was set at "Tepid" ... or lukewarm! ... and they were all perfectly comfortable

The Lord's reaction to their setting? "You have become comfortably lukewarm" ... continue in this temperature and "I will vomit you out of my mouth!" (Rev: 3:16)

I was thinking about tepid, lukewarm, and even vomit! They all have one thing in common ... they're each the temperature of flesh! The temperature of man.

There are plenty of Churches today who's thermometer is set at that comfortable flesh setting everyone enjoys ... lukewarm!

Even thinking about Holy fire bothers us.

It's no secret that God's desired temperature for His Church is Red Hot! Fire hot! After all, His Church started in flames (Acts: 1:1-4)

Isn't it time we let the Lord re-set the thermostat in His

Churches ... and learn to enjoy a new Holy heat wave!

Amen?

GOTCHA!

What is it you and I cant live with or can't live without? The answer is simple;

Its gravity!

Gravity binds us to earth and that's fortunate as there would be countless multitudes of us floundering in space along with rocks boulders and space junk, Gravity's job is to pin us to earth and for sure, gravity is determined to plant us there too.

Today, at 84, it seems a gallon of water weighs more than it did when I was twenty. Gravity power seems to increase the older we get. We may fight gravity for a while but the victor will ultimately be ... gravity.

Who of us will escape its influence alive?

As the years slowly pass, our bodies gradually show the effect of the 24/7 gentle and constant pull of gravity. From jowls and skin that hangs, to bulging varicose veins, even boobs; as we age everything starts to hang!  The body slumps into that old man 'S' shape.

At home we sit quietly in our easy chair; each day finding it more difficult to get the old body up and going. 

Ah Gravity, indeed you'll get the last laugh.

LITTLE ONE EYE

Osvoldo is too little to lose an eye. He was only two. But he did, and they called on us for help, and we helped on his surgery and new eye. The family of six were so thankful. Teresa particularly.

The months have passed now and the father lost his job; things got worse inside their one room shack and he just couldn't take it, so from alcohol it went to drugs and then to hard drugs. Soon he sold the big bed that several of them slept in, then it was the little T.V then their propane stove ... what's next? What's left? Now they are all sleeping on the floor and mom's cooking outside using the paper and wood she finds as fuel. No schooling for the kids any more. Teresa's shy, she didn't ask us for help. How would you walk away from a situation like that?

Does this paragraph of text above frustrate you?

The story, which is much more than just text; frustrates us too! Do we get this family another bed? Will he sell it too? A new stove? Will he sell it? How do we help? One thing for sure ... they need food! And schooling.

We always appreciate your prayers as we enter situations like this. We need ... Compassion! Understanding, Wisdom! ... and yes, money!

Dust

Our young Church was a small group of people and just starting to grow; we held our meetings in a neighborhood house. Mr. and Mrs. Stringer's home hosted the Church. Their living room was the sanctuary while the bedrooms and back-yard played their part as the Sunday School areas.

One afternoon I was sitting in the Rosenberger's home talking with Eileen while nonchalantly doodling/fingering in the dust on the magazine table in front of me. When I realized what I was doing I became embarrassed. Admittedly their home always looked a little unorganized and a bit dusty ... it looked like it was lived in.

Eileen worked as part time secretary at an aircraft company. Bob her husband was a mechanic. They had two young children; one of their children was handicapped. Both Eileen and Bob were super active in our church. Eileen was the church secretary, a Sunday school teacher, Choir director, church pianist, a youth sponsor and my secretary as Youth Worker. Bob was active in other areas including teaching a Sunday-School class. On special church occasions, like a Church work-day, Eileen and Bob would be in charge of preparing the food for all workers.

Did the family suffer for its dedication? No, the Rosenberger family was healthy and happy. The kids? They turned out fine.

That dust on the table taught me a lesson in priorities.

Bob and Eileen had their priorities right and their priorities didn't include a super neat and clean house here on earth.

FIVE DOGS AND A MAN

I've seen some dumb things in my life, this must fit into the top five. A few days ago I drove slowly past a man taking five dogs for a walk. Five very different dogs. He was actually trying to take all five dogs, each with a leash, on one walk. Not one of the dogs seemed to be a follower.

Watching this canine circus was worth slowing down.

Here was a guy actually trying to walk these dogs of different sizes and agendas in one direction. You could tell the man was being pulled ahead by a large and determined lead dog, the man was stumbling a bit; the larger dog was strong and the leash tight! Now as luck would have it the last dog was a small white poodle with the longest leash. Follower he was but not a willing follower! The poor little thing was being dragged along at the lead dog's speed. The other three dogs were busy with their own agendas excitedly sniffing and peeing in the bushes. As I watched in my rear view mirror, the poor man was being engulfed in a web of intertwining leashes. Each leash teaching a different lesson.

Up until that time I thought herding cats was the impossible task.

DON'T WORRY PAPA, I WON'T DIE

Both father and mother were hugging and kissing little Maribel before she was wheeled into the Operating Room. As she was being prepared to go in, they saw a young man being wheeled out; his face was covered. He died during surgery and he was the doctor's first patient that morning; Maribel was next. When Maribel and her mother and father saw the corpse being wheeled out with his face covered, her father broke down in tears. Maribel the was next surgery, and the little girl was due for a critical six-hour operation.

Even though she was a little scared, Maribel looked at her father and said "Don't cry Papa, I won't die, I promise you I'll wake up. You can look in my eyes when I come out, they'll be open, I'll be awake, I promise you ... don't cry!"

With that she was wheeled into surgery.

Hortensia visited her today in Intensive Care where Maribel told her the whole story. She even asked her father to read her little "Yellow Book," a book of kids devotionals that Hortensia gave her in the Thursday Bible Studies.

Hortensia met the doctors too. They told her how thrilled they were that things went so well. Her heart is still on the wrong side but they hooked up vessels and veins and rearranged things so that she will be able to walk to school and even run. She won't have to ride her mother piggy-back any more!

Praise God, the doctors, and all of you who prayed!

We're happy too. The Doctors told Hortensia that the Hospital cost and the doctors fee would have run the family about $50,000.00 and the intensive care room she is in is costing about $3,000.00 a day! Money this family couldn't possibly pay.

We invested about $1,000.00 in keeping her Government Social Security monthly insurance payments up, as her father was out of work. The gamble paid off big time!

Maribel now has a new life!

PROMISES, PROMISES, ALWAYS PROMISES

In my ministry through the years I've met more than my share of promisors, and believed their promises ... I'm not looking for promises anymore but performance. May I meet more Christian performers!


My word is the foundation stone of my character as your word, as a believer, is the foundation stone of your character.

I learned early in life, a lesson from my non-believing father.

He was from Germany. He was aristocracy. He was a German Baron. He was a man! The word "von" is a title; and in a name, means aristocracy. He was trained as a youth to be a "gentleman."

One day I remember him complaining at having to sign for something in the bank. "Why can't they simply take my word for it?," he asked me. "In Germany we had a gentleman's agreement, we would give our word and shake hands on it. If it was ten dollars or fifty thousand dollars, it was the same. Our word was our word!"

I never forgot that.

He was not a Christian, but he was radical about his word. I appreciated that. He had an integrity about him.

He didn't make excuses, because he didn't have to ... he kept his word. He taught me that reasons were OK ... but excuses were unacceptable!

We would assume that if some in the secular world held such high standards, why those of us calling ourselves Christians wouldn't hold ourselves to the same or higher standards.

As the Scripture says; "Let your yes be yes and your no be no." Simple as that! (But then again, that's only Scripture.)

Solution? Think before putting mouth in gear!

Disappointments come as the result of unrealistic expectations. It's a shame that too often we find ourselves disappointed by believing our brother's promises.

"Let your yes be yes and your no be no!" Matt 5:37

A LITTLE CHRISTMAS LIGHT WENT OUT

Wednesday night, after our activity, little ten year old Mida came to me with her cute smile and presented me with a copy of her school grades. All A's and B's! I give the kids that do well in school a little reward, so I pulled out a few dollars and handed her the reward, her smile widened; she said "thank you" and rushed out in the darkness to her home to show her mom. It was just a part of the cold nights activity and I didn't think much about it, but that was the last time I would ever see Mida again.

Yesterday, Christmas Eve night, I met with the family around her little table top memorial.

Friday night the family and Kevin their cousin and his mother jumped into their old beat up car and headed south for Christmas with their relatives. About an hour into the trip the front tire blew out and the car ended up rolling down the canyon. Miraculously no one was hurt bad, but where was little Mida? The accident had taken her life.

When a child dies it's so sad. When a child dies near Christmas it makes the picture even darker. Family devastated.

All we could do is express our condolences.

We found the family hadn't eaten for a while, they were tired and were just going to go to bed. I had enough in my pocket to buy them all a chicken dinner, which they were happy to have.

Every Christmas Eve we cruse the cold black night through Tijuana's back country simply looking for opportunities to share, sometimes candy, sometimes blankets, in some places toys and in other places ... well, chicken dinner!

I'M JUST A LOSER

For the past few weeks, people by the thousands walked through the little forests of trees that suddenly appeared December. Everyone looking for that special tree that would do justice to the families Christmas. The special tree selected would be taken home, placed in the proper spot and adorned with shiny ornaments of color and love. Indeed, for a short time, an exalted part of the family.

But look at the difference a day makes.

On Christmas day I stopped by several of these little forests and looked at the remaining trees. A lonely spot indeed. I stood there giving it some thought.

These were the misfits, the rejected! These are the trees that stood there day after day hoping to be chosen. They tried but somehow they didn't make the grade. Didn't sell. There will be no burst of colorful glory for them. They lay unneeded and unloved.

Even though I'm far from a 'treehugger' and trees have no emotion; I couldn't help but feel sorry for the losers.

Trees are one thing; people quite another! God feels for the losers and rejected ... that's where His people enter the picture.

We might wrap that lesson into a New Years resolution.

THE DOCTRINE OF JESUS INCOGNITO

I drove to the market so that I could quickly pick up a few things for my missionary friends in Venezuela. They love tortillas, sauce and magazines. I was leaving for Venezuela the next day. I also had to speak to some teachers in Mexico that afternoon. (My subject was God's Love (I Cor 13) So I had a lot on my plate and time was ticking.

I pulled into the parking lot, parked, and quickly entered the market; in no time I was back out walking across the lot back to my car ... on a collision course with an older man on his walker. He was short, balding and had a sweet face.

The stranger stopped me. Looking up at me with a smile, "Pardon me, he said ... I'm a little tired and wondered if you could give me a ride to my house; it's just a couple of blocks down the street." He turned and pointed toward his house; the opposite direction that I was going.

Oh boy! How inconvenient! I looked at my watch and then ...

Looking at him, I did my best to explain that I really would like to help him out but that I was in hurry and going the opposite direction. I'm sorry I replied ... He interrupted and said "No problem, I'll just wait here and someone will help me out." He smiled.

I turned to head toward my car when suddenly, like a slap on the face, I got the message!

"VON! What are you doing?"

I turned again to the stranger and smiled telling him it would be "no problem; I'll take you." Of course he hesitated and said he understood I was in a hurry and didn't want to be a bother.

Well, we began walking to my car, ever so slowly! I opened the car door and got him in the seat, folded his walker up and placed that in the car.

As we drove through the parking lot he directed me to his house a short distance away. I pulled over, parked and helped him out and helped place him on his walker facing him toward his home.

He started walking, then stopped, turned around and said "Thank you so much! God Bless you" ... and gave me a wink!

I'll never forget his thanks and even more the wink he gave me! I feel to this day it was a Divine moment."

"In that you have done it to the least of these, you have done it unto me." Matt 25:40

Jesus Incognito.

MY OH MY, WHAT'S WRONG?

The pundits, like chickens, are cackling again. The school shooting in Connecticut this morning seems to puzzle them! Why do these things happen? Why does it seem violence is increasing? What oh what should we do?

The questions themselves tend to prove how dumb these intellectuals are ... they cant see the forest for the trees.

These media pundits might take a look at the most popular movies, most popular games, and hot Internet subjects. With too many male teens today ... prison dress is lauded, bad is good, evil is hot, skull and cross-bones a popular symbol! Killing, murder, robbing, gang rape ... just simple perverted fun! Ah, Gangdom, that's where the real men hang.

Guns? Remember, weapons are male, guns are macho! Guns kill, and killing is male.

Fantasies tend to develop into reality; evil fantasies are no different.

Isn't it apparent that the increasing evil we are ingesting will play out real-time in our society? "Apparently" not!

Fueling young disoriented minds with evil will bring evil ... (Simple logic!) and deeper than that, is the fact that most of our young people have no real purpose or honorable goal.

Speaking of evil goals. I'll bet somewhere in America there are several perverted teens making plans to top today's shootings and make a name for themselves.

God left the stage long ago ... we pretty well deserve the show we have! Pull the curtain ... next act to follow!

HEAD FIRST

We all knew Francisco. A neat little kid who always came to our big shower days and regularly attended our Bible Club. A tragic thing happened a few months ago. An accident threw him into a telephone pole head first, crushing his skull. His father took him to the Red Cross more dead than alive, where they quickly started surgery.

The Doctors told his family that while they were operating on him, he actually died twice on the table. As a result of his accident he has lost an eye, the full movement of his right arm and has a large ugly dent (depression) in his skull, where only thin skin covers his brain. Thank God for a real miracle, his mind is O.K.

Francisco is now a twenty year old. When I first saw him I couldn't recognize him until I asked him to turn his head.

His family contacted us few weeks ago to ask for help in getting a plate put into Francisco's skull. We know them to be honest and very poor. (Father goes to the cemeteries and sings for funerals getting a little money from tips.) The estimated cost of the operation at the General Hospital would run over $1,000 dollars. Very inexpensive by our standards but an impossible cost for them. Tijuana's General Hospital is inexpensive, but for years has a very bad reputation

We said we would help if they could come up with most of the money. They begged and borrowed all the money they could from friends and relatives and came up with about $600.

Today we assured them that we would help make it happen. Francisco gave me an especially tight hug for his "Christmas present."

He wants to be normal so bad.

He's a little afraid of the coming surgery and for good reason. Recently Tijuana's General Hospital has been rocked by a scandal. They have been accused of letting some of their patients die then selling their body parts to more affluent Hospitals in Mexico.

Francisco and his family would appreciate your prayers.

LATE NIGHT TIJUANA CIRCUS

Sunday night I was in Tijuana teaching the little kids at an orphanage by the beach, the teens were into a major soccer game on T.V.

Sunday was to be a long night getting back home; Alas, I never made it!

You see Sunday night, the XOLOS, a popular Tijuana football team, won the country's Championship and I was blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.

The XOLOS won and the TOLUCAS lost, so what?

Well, here’s what!

Upon the XOLOS winning; every Mexican in Tijuana that had a car that ran, got in his car, rolled down the windows, packed his car with friends and beer, and headed out to the road with flags flowing ... driving nowhere, just honking horns, waving flags. People standing on the sides of the cars, on the hood and on the roof! Screaming and exchanging beers. Colorful. Noisy. (Some people were in Pajamas.)

Tijuana’s four lane roads quickly became five lane roads ... stoplights were optional ... all the cars forming a giant and real long parking lot. A cop at every corner sending everyone back around. Not only are cops crooked here but they are also incompetent.

Thousands who didn't have a car were on the streets waving their flags. And me, I just wanted to get across the border.

No one knew where they were going or apparently cared. After about an hour of this craziness and noise, I slowly cut in and worked my way to the right and close to a hotel, then darted in their driveway.

Free!

I got out of my car; tired, "old", in my dirty work clothes and wearing flip-flops, and ever so slightly "pissed-off" ... and to make matters worse, it was a classy four-star Marriott Hotel. Well, $115.00 later my car was safely parked and I was in a quiet room for the night.

I returned home this morning with a light pocketbook, better attitude and in a somewhat sane environment.

Home-alone! Ahhh ...

Merry Christmas!

Driving slowly down the narrow dirt road into Pedrigal, I pulled to a stop and the kids descended on me. They were smiling and excitedly handed me little penciled paper notes, lots of them. I stood rather puzzled looking at the notes then looking at the kids.

I've been given notes before but never this many at one time. It turns out that this is near Christmas time and the kids decided that they were going to give me their Christmas wish lists. (Two kids asked for their notes back because they forgot to put their names on their note.) Big smiles. High hopes. Great expectations!

Who gave them this idea, I don't know. Who told them I was Santa, I don't know ... I'm not dressed in red and I don't look a bit like Santa. I have an Xterra not a sled.

We aren't planning on coming to this community with our gift bus.

Truthfully I have no idea what I'm going to do with these notes (Several wanted a bike!) ... I'll have to resolve it some way.

The point is, Christmas is coming and these kids have flat nothing. These communities we serve are literally dirt poor. If the family has the money they will have a big Christmas meal. No way is it a meal like we will have. In most cases Christmas will simply be another weekday.

In our economy here in the USA, Spectrum has flat nothing too ... So it will be interesting to see how this December unfolds.

For all of us working the border, Pastor Von

AH, THANKSGIVING!

A November Thursday set aside to be appreciative of God's bountiful blessings! A table set for an abundant variety of food. Turkey (Ham for us Gentiles.) stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, sweet-potatoes topped with marshmallows, apple-pie-ala-mode! Family and feasting and maybe a little nap to help digest our food. Setting the calories aside ... we need to focus on gratitude; our gratitude for all He has given us.

It may surprise us, but thankfulness and gratitude are learned attitudes; we are not by nature thankful.

Mexico has no Thanksgiving Day set aside to give thanks, However god knows they have enough holidays ... but no Thanksgiving.

All of us work Thanksgiving day with our "thankless" people. Thanks to many of you we are able provide essential food for the lines of hungry people. And they are hungry! (God blesses those who feed the poor.)

Sometimes I think that our people have so little simply because they show so little gratitude to God. God is an image ... an icon to most.

My hope and prayer is that you might make this Thanksgiving a special day in your home, and that God may be more important than turkey, ham or even family.

He Blesses the thankful!

South, across the border In our world this Thursday will simply be another Thursday ... meal of the day? Beans, rice and cactus!

UNWANTED HURTS SO BAD

In almost fifty years working in Tijuana I've worked with many orphanages. (I'm still working with the kids in four orphanages.) Orphanage's full problem kids. Some are just dumped there because they are unwanted, or an extra mouth to feed and maybe a problem kid too. Others children are brought by mothers and grandmothers because they can't give them food, clothing and schooling.

I've seen kids as they come to the orphanage with their little bag of clothing. They stand silent and scared looking at the institution they are about to enter, while their mother talks softly with the Director. She is soon walking down the street looking for a taxi to ride home. 

Sometimes it's a heartbreaking surprise when a little kid is given to an orphanage. He wasn't told. Now he's there, being given to an institution. I've seen the kids cry and sometimes scream as their mother turns her back and walks out of their life. It's a hurt most of us have never had and leaves a permanent scar.

Unwanted hurts so bad.

Most of these kids have heartbreaking stories ... some with stories that would make your blood run cold!

An orphanage is an institution, it's not a family, and it's actually not a solution. Some of these kids, like Manuel (15) I talked with yesterday have been in orphanages all of their lives. Manuel has never known a family. To be honest, he has never known love. He was one of thousands of problem kids cruising Tijuana ... Manuel is on his last orphanage.

Most kids in orphanages are returned to the streets or their dysfunctional families at age 16, 17 or 18. And with Tijuana's economy at it's lowest there isn't much hope for a job.

In most cases the Step Father does not accept his wife's teenage son returning home from the orphanage. One more mouth to feed. Fights break out. The boy leaves home and hits the street.

I remember having a young man tell me once, "I'm going to live fast, die young and make a good looking corpse."  High until I die!

If you are a family; impress upon your children how fortunate they are to have two people who love them and care for them. A fact, too often forgotten; kids must be taught to be thankful, and to appreciate what they have, and to respect you as parents.

I caught the photo above as I watched a kid, alone, in a Tijuana orphanage. He was standing quietly looking up ... I have no idea what he was thinking, maybe he was praying.

And maybe I don't want to know what he was thinking.

CURSED SOULS

Take God out of the equation and you have the world I work in, a darkened world of lost souls. Thousands of them.

This afternoon I asked a little eleven-year old boy where his father worked. His reply, "I don't have a father."

Another lost kid.

When God goes it seems the "family" is the first to fall.

A first indicator of the havoc to follow. Without God Holy marriage gives way to bed partners. Sex falls into a satisfying irresponsible pleasure ... recreation rather than purposeful procreation.

Sex gone wrong.

God created the family. He created the family concept. Mature father, mature mother as a unit creating new lives to mentor.

Painful fact. As family goes, the society goes. Society then fractures into a mosaic of pain and hurt ... anger and hate. Disoriented people ... poor lost souls breeding more lost souls.

Sadly, I saw it all again; I heard it all again ... last night in the tear stained eyes of an old woman.

OLD BIBLES NEVER DIE

Being a Youth Pastor to several hundred teens proved an enjoyable challenge. I was a serious Bible teacher with a belief that God and His Word could change lives. The three or four hundred kids sitting in front of me liked our Bible studies and many were serious about their faith but they had a tendency to avoid serious Scripture. So I decided to directly challenge the problem ... I wanted a lesson with an impact. An illustration they could actually see.

In our Church library we had a stack of old hymnals and old Bibles. Actually no one knew what to do with them. I took one of the old beat up Bibles and decided to teach from it at our next Bible study. I had a reason to use an old Bible.

At our next Bible study I opened this old Bible to Luke chapter six and read a little of the Beatitudes; most of us like the Beatitudes, they're comfortable ... then I started reading several of the verses that followed the Beatitudes, These are very uncomfortable verses ... illogical verses. I took one verse that was a most uncomfortable verse and carefully tore the verse from the old Bible, crumpled it up and threw it to the floor.

You could hear a collective gasp from the kids. Their teacher actually desecrating God's Holy Bible?

I kept going, finding another illogical verse: (and there are many.) Give to everyone that asks me for something? I did the same with that verse as I did with the other. In fact that night I tore several verses from that old Bible and threw them to the floor.

What's the difference, I asked my audience ... If I don't intend to do what the verse says or at least struggle with it, isn't it the same thing? These are commands, are they not?

Our Lord seems to want Christians to be a radically different people. If we obey ALL of His Word indeed we will be different people.

I could see that lesson made an impact. A lesson many of us need to learn and put into practice.

All of us Christians have a growing tendency to pick and choose. We have our favorite comforting Scriptures; we also have the Scripture we prefer to pass over.

In Tijuana Mexico they have a saying. "What I don't see doesn't exist." Look away and it's not there.

A comfortable mind set indeed ... however, anything but a Christian perspective. We're called to face the truth and do it!

In the little book of James, we're called to "do" the Word, not just hear it.

THANKS I DON'T DESERVE

A handsome boy with a big smile.

Thirteen-year old David and his mother were flying off to Mexico City in the afternoon.

David came over to me and gave me a big hug; he looked up at me smiling and said, "Thank you von." His mother gave me a hug too.

David's first flight.

As a young boy David was run over by a truck. His mid section and five vertebra crushed. He lost a lot of skin on his left side and his genitals made useless. He uses a catheter through his abdomen into his bladder, which often gets infected. David walks with a limp. They saved his life but he's messed up.

A top urologist on a visit to Tijuana took an interest in David and his unusual case, and offered to do what he could for the boy at no cost, but due to technicalities, he would have to have the work done in Mexico City where the surgeon practices.

We know the family and they are extremely poor with no chance to get the money. The doctor said David needed surgery as soon as possible.

Three days by bus to Mexico City was about as expensive as flying, so due to David's condition we chose to fly him along with his mother to Mexico City. Fortunately he has an aunt living in the City.

The day before, David was riding along with me, and I asked him what he expected the doctor could do. He thought and then replied rather softly. "I just want to be normal."

Sometimes I feel guilty receiving the hugs and the thanks! Thanks to our Lord and the one who made this trip possible.

Now it's up to God and the surgeon.

I'M A DIRTY BOY

Often death comes suddenly and interrupts your plans according to how close you are to the deceased. Cecilia, fifty years old, died yesterday. Hortensia called me early and said that Oskar, Cecillia's youngest son, hadn't been told and ... would I talk to him? Oskar, a thin, very quiet, ten year old is the black sheep of the family and was neglected in all of this. Cecilia, had been bedfast at her sister's house, laying in bed, depressed to the point she wouldn't talk or look at anyone including Oskar. He loved her and occasionally brought her food by working little jobs ... now she's gone.

Oskar doesn't know who his father was. His relatives aren't on speaking terms with him, they give him food and a bed (in silence.) We help him with food and school.

I met Oskar when he was five. Since then he would come in to take a shower when we were in his area. I noticed him because he always looked stoic; quiet and never smiled. Some years later I was working the showers and shampooing a couple of boys when I felt a hug around my legs from the back. I turned around and here was little Oskar hugging me and looking up at me; still without a smile. Later he learned to smile a little and interact with kids his age. Oskar has lots of scars inside. A hurting boy.

Would I talk with him? I had a lot of other things planned, but when Hortensia called I felt Oskar and his situation were worth rearranging my day. I'm sure you would agree.

So I left for Tijuana.

When I walked into the dirt yard of his Aunt's house Oskar was standing near the clothesline gazing toward the dump and large cemetery for the poor. I called him and he walked over. I noticed his T-shirt; it read in English, "I'm a dirty boy!" Only knowing Spanish, he wasn't aware of the message.

I had him sit in my car and we talked about his mother's death for about a half hour. He said nothing. He just looked at me listening to every word. His eyes started tearing up as he took it all in. I asked; he had never seen a dead person, or a casket, or been to a mortuary so I talked about what it was going to be like seeing his mother's body ... I talked about God and about death and eternity. He just listened occasionally brushing back tears. His eyes never left my face.

Then it was time for a hamburger and some French fries. I took him down to get a bite to eat. The mood was, well, "stoic." We let him off back at his uncle's house.

Oskar's at the mortuary in Tijuana tonight, seeing his mother for the last time ... and Hortensia, she will be there to hug him. (Spectrum bought a large funeral flower wreath; he asked for this message to be placed on the wreath. "To my mother with love, Oskar."

Just one little twisted life in thousands. Tonight he's hurting bad. Indeed, "Life ain't fair."

That was several years ago, Oskar's a good looking teen now. Thanks to Spectrum, he's going to school, and involved in Church and has a nice looking girlfriend.

Scars? He carries many.

THE MARRAGE OF A FOOL

I saw on the corner a man married to a prostitute. It was getting dark and he was sitting in the dim light with his new wife, holding her close and caressing her ... for he loved her dearly.

She wasn't much to look at but you could see he loved her. I watched him as he fondled her and kissed her ... drinking in her beauty. She was dressed in a small and simple crumpled brown bag. Sr. Baracho (Mr.Drunk) and senora Cuguama (Miz Alcohol) after a long affair, were married early in life.

La Cuguama is his charming wife; his love, his mistress. She encourages him and makes him feel like a man! She gives him his strength and courage and makes him feel important! She listens to him and makes him happy ... for the short time he is under her spell. Senora Cuguama makes him sleep and then, when he falls asleep, she quietly steals away only to become another man's lover. He is hers but she isn't his, for she is now as she has always been ... a fickle little prostitute wrapped in a paper bag!

A cheap adulteress ... for any man's use.

Poor ... very poor ... Sr. Baracho!

Spanish: Cuguama or Turtle, is a large bottle of beer, and Baracho means drunk.

JESUS DIED YESTERDAY

They say it was about 5:00 PM. Death isn't new to any of us; in fact, the ultimate statistic is one out of one dies. But Jesus was only ten years old. Last Thursday at our work-day, Clementina his grandmother, approached us and meekly asked if we could help her grandson who was dying of cancer.

The story was as hopeless as any I have heard. The boy's father had died several months ago. Now Jesus was diagnosed with terminal cancer. The hospitals and doctors had been stalling any help for eight months and by now her medical bill was more than two thousand U.S. dollars. Because of this, the hospital and doctors were reluctant to treat him further. He was now in pain and needed help.

Could I possibly visit Jesus? When we finished our work in Pan America, I seated grandma and Hortensia in my van, then loaded it with four American teens and headed down the long road to Jesus' house. Grandma was giving the directions. After driving for about fifteen minutes, we stopped at a dead end. Grandma got out and crossed the trashy gully to the house to see if Jesus and Alejandra, his mother, were home. She quickly returned to the van and announced that they had taken the boy to the hospital; could we go see him there?

We headed up and over the hill through an urban maze of crisscross streets until we finally came to the hospital. Jesus was in a room on the third floor. I quietly entered the room. He was staring at the ceiling. His mother sat looking at him laying there with an IV in his arm receiving morphine.

I went over to his bed, smiled and asked him how he was doing. I can't forget his eyes as he looked at me and studied my face. I'm sure he was surprised to see an old gringo standing next to him. He managed a smile and said he was feeling a little better, his legs weren't hurting him now. His eyes never left me.

His mother said the morphine would last until Monday.

I talked a little more and his mother requested we talk outside in the hallway. That's where she told me that the doctor had just told her that her son had only days to live. Grandma was sitting on the bench on the hallway holding her head in her hands; she didn't move.

The American teens wanted to see him and she graciously gave permission. I pressed some money in Alejandra's hands to help with his food and care. As we left, Grandma was patiently sitting on the sidewalk with Jesus' little five-year-old brother waiting for Jesus and his mother to come out and go home.

It was morning, a few days later, that I got the news. Little Jesus had died. I also heard that mother, grandmother and extended family couldn't raise enough money to bury the child.

In Mexico, if you don't have enough money to pay for the funeral you don't get the deceased. Tomorrow Spectrum will pay the needed $500 to provide for Jesus' burial. Today, Jesus is just another statistic. His body lies beneath a little wooden cross, one of hundreds of little crosses in what's known only as Cemetery Three.

A little sparrow fell Tuesday; isn't it comforting that our Lord saw it fall.

This true story played out several years ago. This is what we do. Thanks for helping us do it.

OLD BIKE, NEEDS NEW HOME

Several weeks ago someone donated us a small very used bike. No shinny paint job, just the essentials; seat, handle-bars, two wheels and peddles. It had been sitting in our shed for a while. (Thanks to whoever donated it!)

I looked at it lying there and decided to load it with the rest of the stuff in the back of my SUV. It sat proudly on top of all the other stuff.

Yep, this bike needed a home.

As I got near to one of our locations; driving slowly along the dirt road; a load of kids spotted my car and started running toward me surrounding the car. Dirty, dusty, barefoot kids all with wide smiles.

Excitement! Energy! Hey, what's the big deal? ... just an old man and his car.

I always carry a sack of miniature chocolates and they know it ... now when I open the back of my SUV it's like a combined toy-store and supermarket.

They instantly survey everything!

One boy spotted the bike! Literally jumping up and down. "Hey von, can I have the bike? Can I? My brother and I will share it. Can we have the bike?"

Well, I'll make the story short. They got the bike, and were they two happy little dudes.

It didn't matter that bike was old and used; it was theirs now. Now they had a real bike!

I guess, the bike had them.

As I got into the car to leave, the oldest boy, on his new bike

Skidded to a stop by my window and flashed me a big smile ... thank you von.

I took this shot several days later ... the kids were clean and in their school clothes ... I just wanted to show you that smile, it's still there.

SARDINES IN A FOUR WHEEL CAN

I have a small Nissan Xterra SUV. Not the greatest BUT it gets me where I want to go and more than that, it gets me back.

I'm sure this is due to your prayers!

I really don't know what you pack in back of your SUV, but mine is always full of the weirdest things. Jugs of water, spare battery, towels, PVC tubes, games, clothing along with candy and colas.

All of that is on the bottom squashed by a load of kids!

My car was built to seat five people in comfort. But I often drive the bumpy dirt roads with eleven adults and kids packed in the car. Now that's a close fit!

TILL DEATH DO WE PART!

In our perverted world of ministry we seldom see long term marriages; marriages where a man loves his wife and she loves him too. Marriages that are actually happy.

Driving slowly down the dirt road in Barrio La Gloria a bunch of kids surrounded us. Dirty but happy. "Hey von do you have any chocolates?" As we were talking to the kids, Martha came over and asked us if we could look at old Efren her father, who was dying. Efren was 82 and had suffered a couple of strokes; relatives were milling around outside his room waiting.

These people in this Barrio are poor ... dirt poor!

I walked into the door of Efren's room. The small room was bare except for two plastic chairs and the simple bed where Efren laid. His wife Edith, about 70, was by his side, tenderly holding his hand.

Even though he wasn't fully conscious ... they were still in love.

Martha asked: "von can you help us buy some pampers and give us a little money to get a doctor over here to check his catheter he keeps scratching."

We met their needs and drove on down the road.

A few days later we stopped with more pampers and cans of food, Old Efren was still alive. We gave them some cans of Glucerna Martha poured a can of Glucerna into the catheter to his stomach.

As I left, Efren was lying there, looking at the ceiling with his mouth wide open and breathing slow ... while Edith, his faithful wife was sitting at his side holding his hand.

Yesterday we got word that old Efren had died.

In a short while after he died, Edith asked for time to be alone with her husband ... In about fifteen minutes Martha went in and found them both dead. Her mother, her father. Edith still holding his hand. Edith in that short time had suffered a heart attack ... and they left together.

They loved until the end!

It's funeral time and you can guess who they come to.

YES, I CONGRATULATED THE ENEMY

Years ago, President Carter allowed a Communist comeback in Bolivia. The Communists were coming in strong and confident as they tried to win the small country.

I was in La Paz, the Bolivian Capitol, doing a week of Bible Studies for bi-lingual Bolivian teens as well as local American Missionary kids. It was Friday night and the last night of our studies. The missionary house in which I was staying had a large living room and it was full of teens, mostly guys. I noticed an older teen join our group that I hadn't seen before. He sat in a chair along the wall and listened to my Bible study.

When I finished, I asked the group if there were any questions or comments.

At that point the young man stood up looked at me sitting there with my Bible, and then he slowly looked around the group; then in perfect English he asked the group how many believed the Bible and message I was teaching.

He went even further, "if you believe that stuff ... raise your hand!"

This young man had guts, he put them all on the spot!

I watched the struggle! Two of the group slowly put up their hands half way. The others just looked down at their feet.

Ah, so much for courageous teen age Christians.

He did something I couldn't do ... he found the truth!

I dismissed the group and went over to the newcomer. In talking with him, I found he was a devout Communist. We had a brief conversation. I said to him "It's obvious you and I have different beliefs, but I'll admit you have more courage in your little finger than this whole group of weak Christians!" "I wish we had more Christians with your courage!"

At that point I shook his hand!