That Time We Moved to Mexico

I love to write. It’s something God has gifted me with and I love to use it to share what He’s doing in and through His Body in the jungle. I’m passionate about it.

But something I’ve noticed in this social-media-saturated culture is that people are overwhelmed by media. Pictures, articles, words. They are all over our phones, tablets, computers, billboards, TVs.

It’s numbing.

So in keeping with my desire to always be transparent, I’ll be honest and say I feel so often like my words are useless. Like I’m sharing my passions... with a wall. And that can be disheartening. We’ve spent nearly four years of our lives doing some crazy awesome things on this beautiful journey that God has led us on. We can hardly believe the things God is doing and I want to share those with everyone and yet... not many people care.

Now, don’t get me wrong. Some people care deeply. And there are a few people who have consistently written us and encouraged us over the last four years and several have been faithful to pray and give. And we are so thankful because at times their words and prayers have been what God has used to sustain us. 

Loneliness has been a companion these last four years. But God has been faithful to use that for His glory and our good. We’ve seen Him build up a community of people in the jungle, nearly all locals, that we now call family.

Unfortunately, we’ve had many share their opinions on our lives from afar. Most of whom have never actually visited the work that God is doing in the jungle. They don’t know the names of our Brothers and Sisters laboring and sacrificing there. They don’t write or pray or give. They don’t know us. But they comment nonetheless, making judgment calls from afar.

And that’s ok. I’ve been guilty of the same in other peoples’ lives.  It’s hard to understand something you haven’t experienced. I pray that they can see, but maybe that’s not what God has. That’s ok, too.

While I’m slowly but surely losing the desire to try to get everyone to understand something that I can’t fully grasp—the fact that God’s ways are not ours and often our plans fall flat as we follow His leading instead—I feel like I owe it to those who have been on this journey with us to tell the story of how God is moving us.

In September we are moving to Mexico.

Ok. So the reality is, it’s actually Laredo, Texas, which is on the border of Mexico ("I can see Mexico from my house!"). But if you’ve ever been there, you know that it’s a lot more like Mexico than the US of A! 

This may seem really sudden to some of you. And in some ways it is. In other ways, however, God has had this transition in the works for quite some time. The last time we had genuinely considered that God was leading us this way was in 2014. God had closed doors to aviation in Brazil. We still felt very strongly that our calling was to use aviation as a means of spreading the Gospel when God put an aviation job offer for Laredo, TX in front of us. We prayed. We fasted. We sought godly counsel. And we decided that was the direction God was leading us. It would allow us to fund Grace House as well as the other ministries much more efficiently. So, we pursued it wholeheartedly {is there any other way to do it?}. Heck, we had even told several supporters and supporting churches about it. Then God slammed that door closed through Mariclene’s inability to immigrate to the US.

We were thoroughly confused to say the absolute least.

But after a brief period of disappointment and feeling totally perplexed, we hoped right back in the saddle again and saw God do some incredible things. Grace House roots grew deeper along with the relationships He had given us in Benjamin. We moved across the border into Colombia where Richard began avidly working towards opening an air ambulance. We got to know amazing people in Leticia, where God gave us new relationships and lives to speak into as well as some of our now closest friends. It was also during that time that The Donut Company was born.

To be honest, we were feeling quite settled! We laughed about the time we thought we were moving back Stateside and we began to plan what life would look like spending the rest of it right there in Leticia. The Air Ambulance had the potential to fund all of the work, employ locals, help meet physical needs, and fulfill our calling to use aviation as a tool for the Gospel. Boom. The whole package.

Then January 2016 rolled around and God closed the door to the air ambulance. And what’s more, we had really worked ourselves out of a job. Grace House is growing and we have seen truly incredible spiritual growth among the community of believers in the small town of Benjamin. Marcos and Josi continue to rock it with the young men in their discipleship program and we simply help fund their efforts and provide encouragement and support the Javari Project. The Donut Company is growing and totally operated by locals. Of course we were heavily involved in the day to day, but we had to come to the realization that, while we could continue to work hard with our brothers and sisters, we still felt like a part of our calling was being neglected. And certainly not through lack of effort! God had divinely opened and closed doors, leading us on a crazy adventure that we never imagined.

So we just began praying. Would God have us move to another country for mission aviation? Would he reopen a door in this region? We just didn’t feel led a specific way.

Fast-forward to February when we get the news that Mariclene’s immigration was finally approved after two and a half years of waiting. We were stoked! We made plans to travel to the States for her citizenship interview and stay for about two months to raise more funds for the crazy awesome things God was doing. So much is happening and there are so many needs, that the primary need was funds.

So we came to the US and in the first week must have said to one another at least a dozen times, “I never want to live here again!” It’s just this massive reverse-culture shock. It’s hard to explain until you experience it, but it’s very real. We were still praying that God would lead us if He had a new direction for our family in aviation but we were also counting down the days to our return to Leticia {home}.

That’s when the e-mail came late one evening from the same friend from two years back, the first communication about a job since that time.

“Would you still be interested in a job in Laredo?”

I knew the look on Richard’s face when he showed me the e-mail. I immediately pushed it off and told him I had no desire to even discuss that. Absolutely not. No.

But the reality was I already knew in my heart that it was time. We had been in regular contact with our ministry partners in Benjamin and Leticia and they were doing great! Not to say they weren’t passing through trials. They were. Some pretty serious ones in fact. But they were thriving in the peace of God. They were growing, discipling, reaching out, going above and beyond, loving, giving, serving.

And they didn’t need us in the day to day. Honestly, it was a blow to realize that. Don’t get me wrong, I totally rejoiced in it, too!

That’s the point after all, right? To disciple others who disciple others and so on.

Our dreams have actually come true.

But these are my people. They have walked through the valleys of darkness and suffered with us. We’ve cried and laughed together for going on four years. I wanted to be there, enjoying the fruits of our labor. After so many years of loneliness and isolation, we finally have a community that is on fire!

And now, it is time to move on to the next location.

I’m not going to lie. I’ve fought God on this one. I’ve cried until my heart physically aches and there aren’t any more tears. This is all my kids have known. This is all we have worked for for the last seven years, to love and reach the lost in the Amazon region.

So what does this mean now? Why would He take us from the Jungle to the Desert?

Well, I can assure you it’s not because we are wishy-washy as some accuse. It’s not because we don’t know what we really want as others have said. In fact, we could technically be flying in Brazil OR Colombia right now had we been willing to compromise some really strong convictions (but that’s another story). It isn’t because we couldn’t handle it. (Although, I will say that NO ONE can handle it. Absolutely no one. Only Christ in us and in others can sustain in such a difficult place.) No, it’s none of those things.

The reality is, our calling is apostolic in nature. That means that by nature we equip and move on, much like Paul did. We’ve seen that has been the course that God has led us on our whole life. (If that confuses you, join the club. We are learning this role.)

We’ve spent the last few months “rearranging” a bit with the Amazon Network. We are learning our new role in the Body as advocate for the jungle and we are praying hard and looking with anticipation as to what God has for us in Laredo.

One of the most beautiful things about it is that by us coming off of support, those funds can now go directly to the work in the jungle. Grace House, The Donut Company, the Javari Project can now be funded more efficiently which means there is more opportunity for growth. We’ve already seen new outreaches being launched from the network and more Brothers and Sisters join our family--your family.

It’s incredible how God works in the most organic of ways when we truly allow His Spirit to guide.

We want it to be clear that we are not leaving the network or the work there. We will continue to visit frequently and we have daily communication. We are advocates for our Brothers and Sisters there and continue to fund-raise and raise awareness. But now the funds will be liberated and we can start again in Laredo, trusting the Holy Spirit to lead us as we seek to serve the least of these there.

Pray for us all as we make this transition. We sold everything before we moved nearly four years ago so it’s very much like starting over physically as well as mentally. It’s a strange thing to be back in the city you grew up in and yet feel like you know no one. You miss a lot in four years and reverse culture shock is a doozie.

If you have questions, feel free to ask us. We have always strived to be transparent so we welcome feedback and dialogue.

Thank you to all of you who are walking this journey with us. We greatly appreciate each of you and we look forward to the adventures ahead!


This is not the end of the book, just a new chapter... I hope you’ll continue reading.

A little recap of our life for the last four years....

One Year Later

In some ways it seems like yesterday and in others it seems like decades, but it was in fact one year ago today that we left behind what we knew as “home” to begin a new journey, four years in the making.

Looking back, I feel like we were just babies, taking our first steps.

We are different people now. In a lot of ways.

I sit here on the couch in a wooden house, listening to the sounds of the Jungle outside, realizing that this very place that we now call home wasn’t even on our radar back then.

There is a young family of Jagua Indians living in our guest room with their baby girl who almost died in that same room just a couple months back. We didn’t know that she, along with her Mama and Daddy, would fill our hearts and home when Richard first met her back in January. They are now the focus of our discipleship as we pour into them so they can pour into their people one day.

There’s a six year old girl sleeping in a bed right next to Elliott’s who, Lord willing, will one day carry our last name. We didn’t know that when God closed the door for us to move into the village that he would plant us right down the road from our future daughter. Her little eyes haveseen things no child should see and she asks the same questions over and over every day, just longing for reassurance and security. And we begin to walk this journey of adoption together, realizing this picture of the Gospel.

There’s a three-year-old boy, our first born, who is sleeping in that same room. His neck is swollen with Mumps right now and over the last year he’s had his fair share of illness, but boy is he a trooper, bringing life and laughter everywhere he goes. When we started this journey his was a pacifier addict, strutting around in Pampers. Now he sports batman undies and Daddy taught him how to use a machete. He speaks two languages and is learning his third, often correcting me along the way. The kid’s a beast.

There’s a squishy little 9.5 month old Brazilian who might just be the happiest child that God every created sleeping in our bedroom. She came to this country in my belly and, though she has no idea, played a huge role in our ministry here just in her birth. She wakes up with a smile and, on those almost-to-much-to-handle kinda days, her sweet smile offers a mini-vacation from the stress.

There’s a man asleep in our bed that he built with his own hands who carries the weight of the world on his shoulders every day, yet still finds time to play with his kids, read them bedtime stories, brush their teeth, and pray with them. So many times I watch in awe as he works in so many roles, all with the one goal of glorifying Christ.

And then there’s me. I look back at the person I was when we got on that airplane and I think, “I don’t even know that person any more!”

We are changed.

And we are changing.

The days are hard sometimes. You don’t anticipate the loneliness of the mission field. The sun is hot and the needs are many.  Sickness is prevalent and sleep can be hard to come by. Some people will criticize and others will be ungrateful.

Some days you want to give up.

I find, though, that when I stop looking around and start looking up, I begin to see a little more clearly that we aren’t the ones writing this story anyway. It’s a story that started way back before creation. We were born into a story already in progress and one that will continue to be written long after we are gone.

We are just the hands and feet at the end of a dead end street in a tiny town in a small region of a big country on a big planet doing the day to day of what God has called us to in order to make His name famous to the ends of the earth.

This past year has been full of tears, laughter, heartache, joy, sickness, health, loneliness, new friends, opportunities, and redirection. There has been frustration and anger, laughter and relief.

And it’s through all of this that we learn, as Paul says, to be content in whatsoever state we are in… and to become more like our Savior.

Thanks to all of you who have joined us in the journey. Through prayer, encouragement, visiting, and giving, you have been an intricate part of this story, too.

Thanks for walking this journey with us.

It truly is a beautiful one. 

They Want a New Heart, Not a New Culture

The big tank out back filled with rain water that we used to "bathe" was a nice change of pace from the filthy river water we had been using for the last week. Something about rinsing off with water that I could actually see through just made me feel a little bit cleaner, even if the clothes I put on afterward were nowhere near clean. The mud caked on the bottom of my shoes was a pleasant reminder of the slippery trek uphill we had made earlier that day and as I fumbled around in the dark trying to find my towel, I quickly realized it had fallen onto the wet and muddy wooden planks I was standing on.

I smiled because I knew this was soon to be a normal part of my life, and dispite the inconvenience, I loved it.

We settled into the small home of Lolo, a missionary Indian we had met just a few days prior. His entire house was lit by one light bulb and the thin, wooden walls did very little to muffle the sounds of babies crying and dogs barking throughout the village and did absolutely nothing to keep out the resilient mosquitoes who seemed more than pleased with the fresh feast they had found on any exposed area of our bodies.

Lolo's wife and children were out of town so he had asked a little Indian girl to come and cook us dinner: rice, plantains, and fried spam. An interesting combination, but my stomach was telling me loud and clear that it would take ants and slugs if it's all I had to offer. As I watched the sweet Indian chopping garlic cloves and slicing the ripe plantains with a skill that came as natural as breathing, I felt very incompetent. I'm supposed to live up to that? I can barely make spaghetti with canned tomato sauce!

After some light-hearted chit-chat, our new friend Lolo began to share his heart with us. Though he was an Indian himself, he was a foreigner among this particular tribe and he gave us insight on what it truly takes to reach this people group. He told of the first few years of trying to become like them, only to have threats from the locals and problems with theft.

As he shared with us stories of trial and set-backs and frustrations, the overwhelming theme of his conversation was this: Be faithful. Be a servant.

As most Indians, he made little eye contact with us as he shared. He spoke in a quiet voice and nervously squished with his fingers little ants that had scurried onto the table to carry away any leftover rice that had fallen from our plates.

He was humble, teachable. And he was a faithful servant.

For more than eight years he had been faithfully forsaking his own culture, his own habits for the sake of becoming like this tribe he was living in. He didn't do this because he had to or even because he wanted to. As a matter of fact he shared with us his youthful desires of moving to the city and pursuing a career that was much more promising than being a missionary to this people group. His birth tribe has an ancient history of conflict with this tribe that he now considers family. It was no easy transition, but he was happy because he knew God was in it.

As I sat there, smacking mosquitoes on my legs and trying to hear his whispered voice above the sounds of the village settling in for the night, I felt both overwhelmed and excited.

I was overwhelmed because I saw in a new light what it was going to mean to forsake everything for the sake of the Gospel. I've never struggled with selling all of our possessions here in the States. As a matter of fact, the closer we get to our big move, the more ready I am to get rid of it all! The idea of leaving our families is painful at times, but I console myself knowing that we will likely see them at least one a year and, with the way technology is advancing, it's likely we'll have easy communication within the next couple of years.

But as I sat there listening to what Lolo was really saying, below the surface of his stories, I was realizing something completely new to me. I am going to have to sacrifice my culture, my very nature. I am going to have to unlearn 25 years of habit and thought process. I am going to have to surrender everything about myself.

It's that serious.

He explained that we must look like them, act like them, and think like them if we ever hope to reach them. And while I guess I've thought of that before, as I sat there in this dimly lit house I realized for the first time that it really did mean everything.

He told us stories of other missionaries who had come in and tried to live like they always had in their home country, just in a different place and how the tribe always rejected them. He told of well-meaning people coming in and trying to tell them to dress different and cut their hair to please God.

"It never works," he said. "They want to know God. They want to hear the truth and have hope. But they also want to be Indians. They don't want to change their culture. They want to change their hearts."

And then I had this overwhelming feeling of excitement. It had to be the Holy Spirit inside of me, because my flesh was saying, "It's impossible, honey. Have you seen how white your skin is? One thing you won't be doing is fitting in!"

But the Holy Spirit was saying, "I've created you for this. This is just the beginning. This is the excitement in the journey. This is what it's all about: sacrificing it all of the sake of the Cross. Not just possessions, but person."

And that's when my fears began to melt and I realized that I can't do it.

No way could I ever do this. I can't forget who I am. What am I supposed to do with the years of American culture built into my mind and heart? What am I supposed to do with my manners and instincts that are in conflict with so many of the Indian traditions?

And the Holy Spirit said, "Good, you finally get it."

I can't do it, but that's the point. God can and He will. My only job is to die to myself daily.

Lolo says that they will expect our doors to always be open. So they will.
Lolo says that they will expect to be able to come to dinner without notice. So they will.
Lolo says that they will burp after the meal if they think it was good. So I pray they burp!
Lolo says that they will expect our home to look just like theirs. So it will.
Lolo says that they will expect us to have a canoe like them. So we will.
Lolo says that they will expect us to wash our clothes in the river and bathe with rainwater. So we will.

Lolo says that they won't even begin to listen to us about our God until we act like them, talk like them, and think like them.

It'll be hard to adapt to a culture so very different from my own. But if that's what it takes to break down the barriers and to reach them with the Truth for the glory of God, then by the grace of God that's what we'll do.

It's going to be hard. Really hard. But isn't God's glory worth that?

I mean, that's sort of the whole point, right?

Bring on the Rain!

Ever heard the phrase, "When it rains, it pours"?

We found out the truth behind that on our recent trip.

When you think of the jung|e, you likely think of rain.... lots and lots of rain! And for most of the year, this is very applicable. Someone once told us that the difference between rainy season and dry season is that during rainy season it rains all day and during dry season it rains every day. In other words, it's always raining!

But, as with anywhere in the world, there are still dry spells. And it just so happens that the area we were installing the water filtration system was having a dry spell. This was good for the team as they were working on a dirt covered hill and rain would have only served to complicate matters. It wasn't good for the locals, however, as they relied on the rain for their "clean" water source. No rain means no water.

Now, water is something that we ALL take for granted here in the States. As a matter of fact, most of us flush our toilets with cleaner water than most of the rest of the world has to drink. One of the ladies in the village told me that during times that they were without rain and unable to go upriver to buy fresh water, they would walk to the river, fill a bucket, let it sit for 24 hours to allow the mud to settle, and then drink the top half that was "cleaner". They don't have electricity or gas so there is no way to boil the water. They just drink it and pray they don't get sick.

This seems like a good time to insert a picture of what this water looks like:

Notice you can't see this kid from the chest down? Now, think on the fact that everything--EVERYTHING-- goes into the river. People bathe in it, do laundry in it, wash dishes in it.... and yeah, they see it as a giant toilet.

Would you drink it?

Before you say no, remember, there are times when it's that or nothing.

Anyway, it hadn't rained our whole time in the Jung|e. It was Wednesday night and the men had just completed the water system that day, giving the village 5,000 gallons of water storage and a system to clean it.... something they had been praying for for YEARS.

We were having our evening devotional time together and sharing about how good God was to allow everything to go so smoothly and with no injuries. It was decided that the only thing left to do was to pray that God would send the rain to fill the three huge water tanks.

Everyone was tired so it was off to "bed": hammocks for most. Keep in mind, it's nighttime and we're on a houseboat in the middle of the river. Within two hours, we started to hear the sound of rain drizzling down the boat. Then the wind starts to pick up. Then the lightening commences.

Then comes the rain!

Next thing we know, water is pouring into the sides of the boat through the windows. Michael, the missionary whose boat we were on, was pulling up the anchor and heading up river to keep the boat from being tossed too much. The speedboat attached to the side of the big boat was taking on water, so my hubby and Andy had to jump in the boat in the pouring rain and lightening to bail it out.

This hard rain lasted for about 30 minutes. By the end of the storm, everyone was soaking wet, the boat interior was soaking wet, and we were wide awake at midnight (including our 6 month old baby boy)!

What was everyone's first reaction to this abrupt awakening?

PRAISE THE LORD HE SENT THE RAIN!

The next day we were back at the village and found out the tanks were filled almost completely. The water filtration system worked like a charm. And for the first time in years, the missionaries had clean water to use and to offer to the village.

And guess what. It didn't rain the rest of the time we were there.

Isn't it good to know that we have a God who controls the rain and sends it at just the right time?

Amazon September 2010

Ok, so I plan to write some really detailed blogs, but I wanted to go ahead and get a general one out because we have so many people asking about our trip!

If I could summarize it in one word..... well, it would be impossible to do! It was by far the best trip yet and God's hand was all over it from start to finish. I'll just give some highlights and elaborate on some of the biggest blessings in future blog posts:

• Absolutely no trouble going through the Bogota airport! With a group of 11 and big containers of water filtration systems, an inverter charger, and lots of other potentially "scetchy" looking items, we thought for sure we'd be held up in the Bogota security checkpoint. Nope! Got through without so much as a box being opened.
• We were going to have to pay over $500 in extra baggage fees on our Bogota-Leticia flight and the lady who checked us in completely waived the fee! It worked out perfectly because we ended up needing that money for supplies later on the trip.
  
• No one got sick on the trip! Between a new environment, hard work, lack of sleep, food we were unaccustomed to (though very good!), and bug bites galore, we anticipated some sickness during the 10 day trek, but God protected our immune systems the whole time!
• The entire water system was set up in 5 days and the filtration system worked like a charm!
  
• No one was injured (aside from some cuts and bruises) and there was plenty of opportunity for injury!
• Richard was able to attend a tribal council meeting with several influential tribal leaders to share the reasons behind our efforts to bring clean water. This meeting also helps us get a name with the tribal leadership for the future of our ministry. HUGE!
  
• The team worked GREAT together and each evening we had an awesome time of sharing and connecting. This was the first mission trip for 5 of the guys and they were all flexible and I don't remember hearing a single complaint even though we were packed tight on a houseboat and the heat was intense. God brought together a great group!
• One evening, the houseboat was stuck on the shore. For 2.5 hours the group worked to free the boat and God miraculously made it happen! (More to come on this story!)

And the stories go on and on of how God provided! Thanks to EVERYONE who prayed for us. We have no doubt that God is going to use these efforts to further his work in the region.

Please stay tuned for more detailed updates!

Our Home for 8 Days